The Harp
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The flowing fingers of Mind sweep across
The strings, zipping the Spirit’s songs serene.
I feel like Saul when David played; but toss
The javelin? Can music make me clean?
.
Can envy override the harmony
Of Soul’s meek message music blends in heart?
If truly blended, lost is jealousy;
Its nothingness departs without a smart.
.
The plucking rapture, Saul then never felt.
The music’s healing bursts from Love’s pure hands.
It lives in self-awareness where hearts have knelt
In humble prayer, where Spirit reprimands.
.
In harmony, the heart and harp are one—
A music played from Soul’s evolving run.