Do you feel a pulse throughout the world?
A beat, that surges through your ears and blood?
That wraps you in its effervescent mood,
and leaves you tingling with a dream unfurled?
(The breezes whisper in a hidden rhythm,
Compound a listener fastly to their cause,
Then leave him without question or a pause,
Half-laughing, half-acry at fickle whims.)
Don't cry - the beat is yours, you are the beat.
(God-manifest, hold to the 'pointed task.)
And listen to the words it claims within,
Now loud, now soft, now cool, now haste in heat.The why is yours; the when (beyond your grasp)
Is still responding to this touch of Him.
© John McNeil. All rights reserved.
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