lifetsyle

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Credo


I think
That God must be
A Music-Master
Who directs the play,
And we the players in His Orchestra,
Make harmonies or discords
As He wills-
He crooks His little finger
And the chords
Come swelling from the instruments we hold
Within our eager hands.
He nods His head
And majesty sublime comes crashing forth,
Or, with a simple drop of His baton,
Makes silent all the quivering, dancing strings
We play upon-
Mere puppets?
Yes, but who would not be proud
To be a player in a Symphony
So mighty?
And to be directed by
The Hand of such an Artist!

Written by Esther Popel (1896-1958)

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