We are all melodies
Something like a symphony,
Each heart harboring a harmony sung around the hymn of
Holy Holy Holy
Parched lips cracking open to let loose broken and beautiful hallelujahs
Sometimes struggling, searching for the right notes
And when our quivering voices shake as we become breathless
Our lungs are filled again with grace
Our heart strings stretched tight and tuned
Each reaching for resonance with righteousness
Because we're all just trying to sing in unison with the song that sang stars spinning and still sustains their shining
We are a tapestry.
Fine fibers intertwined, enticing eyes to amazement.
We are woven together
So perfectly patterned
That each life line lies right by the right line and tied tight
We are stitched together with Silver Lining
Our Great Hope holds us together
Each thread still single,
But better when threaded together
Trying to describe the triune Designer Himself
We are each cathedrals
Our architecture pointing upward to our Father
Our souls sacred spaces
With hymns and liturgy echoing off the walls of our insides
Reverberating up the stone arches of our ribs
And spilling out through our lips
Filling these streets with love songs
Overflowing from the center of our sanctuaries.
We are graffiti
Bold brushstrokes on buildings
Awakening awareness of the Unseen
Sometimes sadness sprayed on sides of walls
Hopefully happiness held up in and heralded in celebration halls
We can be pro propitiation propaganda
Promoting the payment for our past
Physical fanfare of our new forthcoming fortune
We write the revolution in retail spaces and residences
We are each promises of a reigning and returning king.
We are all stories that are still being told
And all of heavens leans in to watch the mystery unfold.
Marveling at the magnificent gift from God to man to mess up
Realizing that our rough drafts write the final by themselves,
Because no pen stroke is wasted in grace.
We are canvases.
Cloth covered constructs capable of capturing and containing creativity
Extensions of the essence of eternity
We are beautiful
Blank and bland before being placed in capable hands
Or covered in a mess from misuse in the hands of incapable man
But can be recovered
Our purpose rediscovered
In the hands of an artist
He has a plan.
We are not necessary
But necessity does not define our validity,
We're something like a luxury,
But a luxury a deity decided was worthy of purchasing
With His one Son's blood
Our curse as old as mankind was undone
We are not yet complete
But blessed is the man who will humble himself and seek to discover the details of our imparted divinity
That this destiny is not what a person does
But who they will be.