A deep and wildsome glory

"Into the peace of these wild things,

 Into the wild of this grace,

Into the grace of this blessing,

Speak in the peace of this place."

-Andrew Peterson "The Magic Hour"

There is some beauty too great for words.

Have you ever stood outside at the moment Day washes into Night, and felt the very air was filled with a thrum of praise?

Have you even been awakened by the scent of daffodils in the dark, or watched the laughter bubble over in a baby's smile, or seen the moon hanging low in the West and felt your heart might burst with the pain of Joy?

It is these moments I wish I could speak the language of the birds who flit over the sunset and pour a fountain of notes tumbling one over another down the fingers of the breeze.

But I am only human. My attempts to speak and write and pray are met with complete silence and a mind whisked clear of words.

I watch the sun gleam over the Spring's-blood green of the wheat field and the soul-ache deepens.

"Lord, Lord!" is all I can manage, and as I murmur the Name the pain cuts deeper and sweeter, sending shafts of holy light blinding my soul.

If I cannot tear myself away from the beauty and I cannot ease the joy-pain with words, I am awash and afloat in helpless, unbridled Joy.

It can terrify me, this soul-moment.

The pull of eternity is so near, so deep that my heart strains for it.

But human I am, mortal-life coaxes me back and the veil is half drawn again over the face of the wild peace.

"Lord..." I begin again, near to breaking under the weight of His glory.

"Satisfy your soul."

The gentle, tender commandment takes the desire of words from me.

Defenseless.

My words.

My weapons and tools.

The King has taken them away, gentle but firm and asked me for silence.

And my soul...

      My soul warms in the after-glow; expands, dances.....and is full.

Satisfied.

Nothing more I could ask.

Nothing less I could wish.

Eternity in the heart of Man.

What a deep and wildsome glory.