What the world holds
what it makes
mess and beauty
pain and storm
threats and shaking
hope and worry
warped, skewed echoes of creation's goodness
is pierced
every moment
by what to all else would be cacophony
speaking, singing, shouting, whispering
from any and many
dots on its surface
a jumble and crash of sound:
praise
to You a chorus
concert
orchestra
intricate in melody
grand in tempo, in harmony
still each singular part
so clear
that to You it's
a holy solo
Take heart, you His people:
in the mess
pain and storm
threats and shaking
worry and tragedy
in the unknown--
yet and always
resounds from earth
to His ears
every moment,
a symphony
praise
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