The Music of Life

The music of life is not profound observations
Nor great thoughts of great men
Musings of the wise come and go
It is in the quiet of the falling snow
The rain as it hits the window pane
And the smell afterwards.
The warm sun on the grass
And the sweeping wind, carrying with it the glory of God.
The hands of the humble, always entwined in each other.
The faces of children happening upon
Some great discovery and
Always inquisitive, always questioning.
The voices of His children when no one is listening;
So sincere
Beautifully broken in surrender.
The music of life is here; it is within
It is beyond the doors yet always within reach
The music of life is here.