You can hear Bach drifting
from a young mother’s earbuds,
her baby asleep in the cart at Walmart,
a quiet cathedral
in the middle of ordinary aisles.

You can hear a lullaby
rising from an underground band
in an empty building,
after their loudest scream set,
tenderness blooming
after thunder.

Ah, there are singers
beyond the lines of soldiers,
voices crossing borders
no army can close,
giving a comfort deeper
than the simple shape of their song.

Beauty is born
every moment we step past ourselves
into the still pond
of the eternal.

Music, painting, dancing, writing,
all flow toward that one pond,
a language everyone knows,
each an echo
of the Creator’s beauty.

Ah, so much of heart and soul
is woven together this fall,
joy spilling over
into the dark caves
of war and ruin.

Can you see it?
Can you listen long enough
to taste the peace
hidden in this season
full of surprises?

It lies beyond the reach
of human words,
spoken only by nature’s instruments,
painted only
by nature’s hand.

Lord, we praise Your presence
in this fall.