Star Song

I strained to hear her voice.

A lullaby, hauntingly familiar

A cradle, long ago abandoned

A loving embrace, forgotten.

She sang of One I knew

A God, whose fingers formed her

A love, whose depth wooed her

A spirit, whose breath had named her.

Her voice joined her piercing beauty

A melody, Crisp and pure as her light

A praise, honoring her Maker and King

A cathedral, meant to enthrone Him.

How had I missed her transcendent tune?

A life, swirling frenetically

A worshipper, too busy to look up and listen

A heart, cocooned from Love’s voice.

But somehow her song penetrated

A siren, causing me to awaken.

A voice, ushering me to her Maker

A song, stroking my wounded heart.

Patti McCarthy Broderick

April 2013

Who laid its cornerstone-- while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy?

Job 38:6