My soul a choir

Standing, singing in a stale choir,…
timely notes, lower then higher….
in unison, the voices aspire ,
to conform mindless, but never tire,….
soon the drone dulls the fire,
 a painted smile my soul calls a liar.

So breaking from the choir alone, ..
Before my smothered spirit is gone,
I seek a voice of my own,..
though not lonely, and not always alone …..
Simply a song of my own
 to share with the music of all life’s songs,
Each light, each fire, each breath a tone,
The song meaningful, felt,.. and Gods own

With the raindrops, mountains and the sea,
The stars and beyond each galaxy,
Joined  leaves waving on the same tree,
Creating, being,…a sweet symphony

To breathe and cry, laugh and sigh,
Color the world, dance in the sky,
Our life being an answer, not a question “why?”
With only moments to slumber, never really to die.

Standing, dancing, my soul is a choir,
Dreams notes I sing,  joy leaps higher,
Oh that all voices will together aspire,
to share love and joy, and never tire.

Each day I’ll sing, to tune my soul
Learning the sounds, a part of the whole,
Not just taking, but making a path to stroll,
Being in each moment, transcending man’s goal.

When we all sing our music, life is lifted higher,
And always rising, our souls are a choir.
 

Together let’s sing.
 

Reviews

[Michelle Stinson]

"a painted smile my soul calls a liar" simply yummy phrase. I like this exploration of the need to find one's voice within the cacophony of the world's "choir."