Windy Singing

Tuesday of the Third Week of Eastertide

 Praise him with the sounding of the trumpet,
   praise him with the harp and lyre,
 praise him with timbrel and dancing,
   praise him with the strings and pipe,
 praise him with the clash of cymbals,
   praise him with resounding cymbals.

                                             Psalm 150:3-5



An Alleluia is blowing across the fields of spring this morning.  The commotion of trees making a bright green disturbance at the bottom of the pasture.  Their branches flailing, bending low, a tossing of wild arms about to the piping wind playing out a blustery hymn. The loud breeze sounds through the tree tops all along the field edge like a rough instrument the breath of the Lord plays through.  Oh, to be the reedy curve in His hands; the buckling into the gale of His fuse, unseen and all around; deep within.  The clouds scuttling overhead this ruckus below; 
this windy singing 
full out 
over the farthest 
hills.






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