I prayed for peace,
I prayed for me,
I questioned God
to some degree.
I loved to entertain myself
so took the small box from the shelf.
I carefully, the dust, removed
from ev'ry little, tiny groove.
Beholding it for quite awhile,
I cherished its antique-ish style.
Can this old box, this afternoon,
play once again, its pretty tune?
Familiar songs with tiny chimes
are like a poet's perfect rhymes.
I hear the clock, its 'ticks' and 'tocks',
then slowly open music box.
It's been some years since it has played,
but soon a simple sound it made.
Through tears of joy and tears of love,
it's grandma now I'm thinking of.
Though she won't sing here anymore,
her music plays as years before.
Her praises in harmonic chord
lift ever higher to the Lord.
The heavens call, emotions float,
on each and ev'ry fragile note.
But decades passed... so many years.
She's often lost among my tears.
Though mem'ry dim, I can recall -
her Godly ways, her life and all.
Her music box is all I've got -
and like my Lord, it changes not.
He doesn't change. He never fails -
despite my storms, despite His nails.
In tune with peace and love for me,
God answers prayers so faithfully.
Before I place it back on shelf,
committed, I will humble self.
So blessed I am, I praise His name.
My life will never be the same.
As in the past,
God answers right.
I close the lid...
and hold it tight.
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