Dis Concerted

Come!  Listen to the pipe organ – the invitation was made.
Innocently, one would imagine, but in the words was laid
More meaning than could be expressed. 
Pain.  Annoyance.  Boredom.  Distress. 

I’ll go.  I’ll listen to the pipe organ.  I uttered the words. 
And reckoned that the sentence could be endured. 
It must be possible; Yes, it must be so. 
I’ve seen it done and…I can’t say no. 

At the back of the room!  That should be my locus. 
From there, on my snores, there can be no focus. 
But upon entering, I was without choice. 
Front row seats!  I had, clearly, no voice. 

We sat and waited.  Our arrival was premature. 
Perusing the program, one could only infer
That all hope indeed was gone. 
And the early mindset, completely spot on. 

Page after page mentioned organ and choir,
Enough for a week. I’d hoped for an hour. 
If those weren’t enough a grimace to bring,
In between each, the crowd had to sing. 

When dread was worst, the program commenced. 
My confusion did too.  A shift in spirit, I sensed. 
With every note, the heart seemed to take flight. 
Moments passed, darkest mood turned to light! 

Prelude and Fugue by Bach, led the charge. 
Up to the heights we stormed, but soon tears too large
To be hidden, coursed down from my eyes. 
I repent.  My words were all lies. 

No pain, but rapture.  Nothing there to annoy. 
No boredom was found.  No distress, but more joy
Was present than I ever had guessed. 
I don’t think I err when I say we were blessed.

In surprising places His joy can be found. 
It surely will be in the next place I’m bound. 
I borrow trouble. It ties me in knots
And keeps me from seeing the blessings I’ve got. 
 
Beauty lies around us.  It requires that we stop
And listen and feel.  And, sometimes shut up. 
The heart, when unfettered may actually soar
To heaven, or perhaps at least, to its shore. 

I’m back on the ground at last, for the night. 
If invited again, I think I just might
Stay home.  I’m not sure that I’m made
To soar to the heights, more than once a decade.

“…But now bring me a musician.” And when the musician played, the hand of the Lord came upon him.
(2 Kings 3:15 ESV)

“Music hath charms to sooth the savage beast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.”
(William Congreve~English playwright and poet~1670-1729)

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