Poetry has a way of working deep, interpreting the language of the soul. In many ways, prayer is a form of freestyle poetry, as is song. A life-lived in honesty is visual poetry, containing all the beauty and ash of life. While I was reading this morning, the following verse became a translator of the heart. I sense and see in it’s words how the song of our life, whether well-sung, or not, caught God’s ear, it’s melody drew Him, and He came near…breathe and read…
Dei Gratia,
Monty
*******************
You came down from your throne and
Stood at my cottage door.
I was singing all alone in a corner,
And the melody caught your ear. You
Came down and stood at my cottage door.
Masters are many in your hall, and
Songs are sung there at all hours. But
The simple carol of this novice struck
At your love. One plaintive little strain
Mingled with the great music of the
World, and with a flower for a prize you
came down and stopped at my cottage
Door.
~Rabindranath Tagore
