Premise of Joy

Joy cannot be raised as though it ride the back of a song. It is a gift and for that we should laud the giver with praise. The heart races into overdrive as the mind fills with wonder. Our physical and vocal constraints suddenly are unbound. The mind and senses suddenly to a higher plane are lifted and our reactions no longer seem to need a leap of faith. When we walk the aisle to say “I do”, we do consider faith. I seem to recall such feelings of humility, my body in song, in tune with the lilt of the moment and the suppressed lift, of the shout building within me. I offer ever lasting praise, of the promise of one walking to me, to He whom I am bound. As, in unison, all who watched us say I do, approve in wonder. They remember their own vows, their own time of wonder. I remember standing before the observation room in faith, promising Him that if only this little babe not yet bound to me, already powerfully making my heart burst to song, were only normal, I would raise him to give Him all praise. I loved the smell of baby powder, as the blanket was lifted. Days at our beach house, a respite which always was a lift, from the day to day routine of work, was always wonderful. To be able to walk on the beach and stand in awe and praise, knowing that the sun would rise and tide would fall in faith, as the sand dabs hid and the seagulls surround them in song, the power is in Him Who made the earth and to Him is bound. One cannot be a true southerner and not be honor bound, to explore the beauty of the Blue Ridge; to smell the lift of air rising from the basin gently through long leaf singing, on the outcrop above, as the eagle circles in wonderment. Exploring Chimney Rock and crawling through with faith, the Devil’s Kitchen, giving such surroundings due praise. How could one possibly contain and not express praise, for such intricate beauty, surely every man is duty bound to seek out and enjoy beautiful things which speak of faith, those simple vibrant things which give life a joyous lift. We need those things which fill us with so much wonder, we feel our nerves tingle, our skin crawl, and heart sing. A Life devoid of giving praise, never feels the spirit lift. If threads of doubt are bound, life can be filled of wonder. Life can produce such faith, our being delights in song. My words are: sing, praise, wonder, bound, lift, faith © 26 Nov 2010 For Deb's "Joy to the World"contest