What is life when the living is done?
Oh, to dine with the Risen Son
What are words when the cries scream out?
Soul-sounds of a silenced shout
What is worship, prayer or praise?
When upon this rock my song I raise.
In the gardens of creation, the song whisperers flourish, dressed in their finest clothes. They are the lyrical notes that rise and float as the breath of God. They settle like butterfly wings on the surface of humanity and there on their earthly platform they speak Spirit to spirit. From His spirit to mine!
Upon this rock are the sounds that speak to the emotional core of what has been buried in us since the beginning of creation. Lyrics written in heaven and carefully encased in us until the very moment we are ready to glorify Him – They burst forth in heavenly hue as part of who we are supposed to be and release us from ourselves so that we can be with Him.
From this water smoothed stage of our baptism, we are placed in full view, dressed in our finest livery as we sing our flower song to His Glory.
