Wednesday, November 18, 2009

This Harp 11-18-09


The dust completely covered
the memories of old,
as I sat in my attic,
as melodies turned cold -
though still completely faithful
for all these many years,
I had no lone ability
to perk up hungry ears.

Until the seed was planted,
forgiven all, times seven -
until I grew through practice -
a harvest seen in Heaven -
until revived with water -
until restored with oil -
this harp was all but worthless,
lacked spirit through my toil.

BUT THEN set to a purpose
and held in humble love,
full notes created music
which floated high above.
This harp exposed a message,
and melodies took wing -
but only when His fingers
strummed each and every string.

©2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Psalm 147 (KJV) 6 The LORD lifteth up the meek: he casteth the wicked down to the ground.
7 Sing unto the LORD with thanksgiving; sing praise upon the harp unto our God:
8 Who covereth the heaven with clouds, who prepareth rain for the earth, who maketh grass to grow upon the mountains.

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