Summer Air From Somewhere

Summer air symphony outside my window,

Riding on the fresh after breath of the moon.

                What if I could catch you in a jar and study your unique tune?

Who is it that directs with sounds so sweet?

                Do the stars twinkle to keep the time?

I wonder whether the crickets know their strings were assembled by the Divine.

                The breeze that builds the acoustics so resounding,

Helps to amplify the trees rustling percussion.

                Me? I am just a passerby who paused as I sauntered past the amphitheater.

This one located at the somewhere along the intersection between dream and thought.

                I marvel at the harmony so true-

A sound hardly touched by ivory and wood.

                This summer’s symphony will soon give way to autumns textures and colors,

A canvas composed of   artistic picture rather than a midnight song.

                No matter the lyric, artistry or allure-the author tis all the same.

He is the one who sings the melody, a thread woven through all our joy or pain.

                Heavy notes of love and faithfulness-so soothing for one to hear.

So whether you sleep, wake or rise-

                Remember who you are in this grand composer’s eyes.

End the question of the summer air from somewhere-the source is deeply known.

                When it next comes to mind-take the time,

To listen to that which is sung around the throne.

                A summer air’s song from somewhere.