Night was falling; the trees spoke to one another, their voices rising with each rustling leaf. The crickets tuned their wings and played their songs as a handful of crows flew noisily overhead, calling out the directions home, already late, and in a hurry. I laid down on the grass as God slowly covered the world with darkness. The frogs, living in secret places near the hedge, added their bass notes to the sounds of the night.

“You’re a composer,” I said to God. I closed my eyes and listened. I heard the beating of His heart, the breath escaping His lips, the sound of His love reverberating through all of creation.

“Thank you,” I said, and applauded the performance. The fog spilled over the hillside—cold and damp— and so I rose to go— but taking with me the knowledge that I am part of it all—my soul a chord in His great symphony.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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