Notes of silver in songs of gold are the yes and bless of the lovers of the Lover.
Every word a decree of His grace, every inflection an offering of incense, sweet and fragrant.
Arrows may come, darts from careless friends or dark enemies, but the lovers open wide their hearts and sing healing, every shining sound of mercy sinking quickly beneath the skin and soaking into the bones, soothing pain and restoring strength.
Who has understood it, this unfathomable power of words? We are made in the image of One who opened wide His own heart and sang us into existence– us and the moon and the turtles and the volcanos and the color orange. Our own lips have the power to release life or decree death, to build wings or dig graves.
Inhale His breath, release His song. Hear it rise and watch it weave threads of freedom and redemption into the tapestry of the universe.