The Sound of Spring
The Secret Chord
I’ve dabbled in poetry throughout my life, though I honestly don’t know how it has become defined at this point. I can’t say I’ve ever really put my poetry out there, but I wanted this newsletter to engage with every aspect of me. That being said, I was up until 3:00am the other night and couldn’t fall asleep. So, I wrote a poem about someone I once heard.
Have you ever heard the jazz bands that play New York?
They play to find that one chord that pleased the Lord.
The one that can’t even be found when a choir sings in one accord,
Oh, what a feeling it is to be so adored, that one chord that has yet to be scored.
Mankind has forever sought direction from its conductor,
To know the rhythm and pitch of which to play.
But they need not look at the instructor,
Rather close their eyes, listen, and pray.
For those notes are not found in the songs of birds,
But they are only found in the sound of your words.
No, God did not hide those notes or keep them from me,
Because when I hear your voice, that is when I am free.
The tune they seek, God was pleased to put in one place,
Behind the lips of your beautiful face.
That is the song of which David played,
Every sound that you have ever made.
Never have I heard such a song when you speak,
Certainly never while you smile from cheek to cheek.
How I pity the man who has never heard you,
For your words carry sweetness, as that of morning dew.
Your voice is greater than that of every song, choir, or instrument,
Hallelujah! I sing!
Hallelujah! to the King!
Hallelujah! Let it ring!
For in your voice, the Lord has brought about my Spring.
