Friday, May 15, 2009

Awakening by W. Thomas Edwards

A soul is made to sing, and sing it must.

It must to other things attend, also, but when its shape is done

It sings.

And sometimes when the vessel that it moves knows that it’s there,

The singing breaks the bounds of clay

and can be heard.

What shape its song, it matters not

The reason for the singing is the key to understanding

What it is the soul is singing.

The greatest gift I know is grace

And is not won,

But poured upon us like some ancient Greek libation on the ground

Where some soaks in and some runs off the rocks.

Just when that soaking fills the soul to bursting out

The vessel sings

In joyous praise of grace and Giver.

Three times it sings each song in laud of

God the Three-in One.

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