Has God\'s music,
entrenched and resolute,
been quieted?
Perhaps.
Perhaps the tune was never sufficient
for every man to hear
as it was played to the select
who presumed they were elect
Perhaps the music ere made
could never reach the world
It is not reaching us now
We have seen too much of the soul
We finally note the plight of the meek
We suffer with those who were once impure
Perhaps turning obliquely from the sound
removes the fear that prevented our empathy
Now we begin to play
Our music, collectively composed,
is a new and beautiful melody.
Our tune can weave through culture and time.
The percussion begins,
followed precisely by the strings, brass, and woodwinds
as they enlarge the sound.
The vibrations reach those
long hidden from the music
by literalism and fear and ignorance.
We still love the classic,
we revere it for its composition,
it buoyed us before we could play
we have built on its structure.
But unless the composer
can evolve his voice,
he will continue playing for the select,
not the elect, while missing the plea from his child.
Maybe God\'s music never was
the delivering hand of the composer,
but the interdependent relation
between the players
Perhaps, God\'s music was ours all along.
Perhaps through kindness I can play it for you now.