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The Dance
There is one who hung the stars in place.
Who set the cosmos like a timepiece
In sure rotation across the velvet sky.
He saw his reflection in the moon.
And like a candle
He held the Sun in his right hand.
He is bigger far than we can understand.
He fills the very universe we know.
His breath comes forth, and gives us life.
There is one who tracks the endless pathways of the night.
Dare we, poor mortals that we are?
Lift up ours heads and ask if He is God?
Yet He calls to us;
And we hear Him in our hearts;
In music that our minds can't understand.
We are a river searching for it's source,
Yet we spill forth on;
Parched and barren land.
Still He calls us,
When the Spirit plays;
His pipes call us ever to the dance.
Our poor hearts seek him when our minds do not.
Yet something deep inside,
Knows we are His.
Like a gentle lover he stands and waits.
For each of us to reach and take His hand.
He calls, yet it is we who choose to come.
There is one much greater than you know.
Who is waiting now for you to come.
Run to Him feel His warm embrace.
Then you can join the angels in the dance.
Copyright ©
Wanda Daugherty
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