The chorus of praise began
With the angels
Their song a gentle melody
Whispered on the breeze
The notes pure tones
Of majestic glory.
Flawless in its simplicity
Nothing could compare
To its greatness.
And yet, the praise was not complete.
The sun, the moon, the sky, the stars,
Added to the symphony.
Darkness and light,
An antiphonal response.
The ocean rose against the sand
Clapping God’s honor.
Even the rocks contributed their stony silence
Created in perfection
And yet, the praise was not complete.
Trees, reaching toward heaven
Arms outstretched.
The flowers joined in the hymn
Heads nodding in assent.
All sang of his glory.
Bright colors, dancing rainbows
Seeds flew on the wind
Extolling God with their potential.
And yet, the praise was not complete.
Rhythm was added to the song
As the crickets chirped
And the bullfrogs joined in the percussion.
Glory had a voice
In the singing of the birds,
And the howling of the wolves.
The song finally had body and strength,
As elephants trumpeted,
And joy, as hyenas laughed.
And yet, the praise was not complete.
For one moment, one small break in time
He came to teach his children how to sing.
“This,” he said, “Is how you do it.”
And he stretched out his arms,
As a conductor, directing them into songs of love.
His dying breath a note of silence.
Creation brought to its knees
As the song of praise ended.
Angels shocked into pause.
And all waited to see if the song would begin again.
Haltingly, faltering, the children began
Their notes discordant,
Never perfect, far from complete.
But they did sing,
And creation picked up their tune.
Urging them along
Encouraging, helping,
Harmony at its finest.
And finally, the praise was music to God’s ears.
Poem inspired by a line from one of Rev. Suzanne's Ellis’ sermons -- On Holy Ground -- in which she said, "And the praise was not complete."
Kim Matthews
