Wednesday, February 8, 2017

The Symphony

I pondered on a warm summer’s day, why a cool breeze lofting through the leaves in the trees could make such a wonderous sound.  It was like each leaf was a tone. The breeze was playing music in the trees and it was stunningly beautiful.  I closed my eyes and just listened.  The sounds that were around me filled my whole being.  Birds chirping their conversations. Squirrels chattering with other squirrels. Insects buzzing around, but not disturbing me. 

I allowed myself to just soak in the sounds with no filters.  My feet were bare and feeling the ground under me. As I listened to the sounds around me, I also allowed myself to feel the earth beneath my feet.  I allowed my spirit to just melt with the sounds around me.  My feet, they seemed to become one with the earth.
 
Then I heard a frequency. It was soft at first. It played in amongst the others sounds around me.  It was like listening to a symphony.  I marveled in my spirit how creation sings.  The next thing was the vibrations that I was sensing in the earth.  It was all in tune with each other.

I marveled how our Creator orchestrated his symphony.  Each tone of a bird’s song, each chirp and chatter of a squirrel and even the mooing of cows – all intertwined together to make a symphony.

Now, I am inside and it is winter. The cold brings either rain or snow. I had the opportunity to watch the snow fall. It was silent as it fell. Yet, it must have made a sound.  It made the world around me quiet. For some reason, the covering of the snow seems to bring a sense of longing. A longing for wholeness and purity.  Now the rain comes. It washes all the snow away. It reveals the nicks and rubbish on the ground. The dark skies, with clouds heavy with rain, seem to be foreboding. But, as the rain comes down, I hear the sound on the roof. The swishing of cars going by as they run over puddles. Here again is another type of symphony. Rumbling vehicles driving on wet streets have some sort of rhythmic pattern. The rain pounding on the roof has a rhythmic pattern.  The wind blowing through the evergreen trees is not silent. It plays each branch.
Listen to the symphony.  It’s there for each of us every day.  A symphony so grand that we miss it because we don’t take the time to listen. Sometimes, that symphony is soft, so unless we listen we miss it.


I close my eyes and quiet my soul. I then step onto my seat of rest.  I ask my Creator to help me listen with His ears, so that I can hear His symphony.  It is most beautiful.