Of all the pretty birds and flowers,
That I heard speaking to me,
None were as loud as the showers,
Or that little Pekingese.

Their whispers told of a time,
Held before this date,
When the hills began to climb
And the seas did abate.

Its was long ago in a land not far,
The whisperers began to speak,
They talked of life around a star,
And said something about a week.

Time has now here and gone
To never here return,
And I have tried to push on,
But life holds me firm.

I know one thing I’ve learned it well,
Some people love a lie,
They don’t want us to tell,
Of the souls they do buy.

They act like there’s nothing to say,
About that epoch before
Or what came about on that day;
The whisperers they try to ignore.

But ignore them we cannot,
Not even if we tried.
For they now show us our lot,
From them we cannot hide.

They are found here and there,
In everything that is made.
In the light they are so clear,
How could this be a façade?

Listen once, I’ll tell you now,
You are going to die,
So now you must question how,
Does that fly, fly.

Well with wings of course,
Not of himself made.
But formed with thoughtful force,
Around a foundation laid.

You see it was God who made us all,
And all prove him.
Life’s whispers sing praises at His ball,
And they glorify Him

by Ryan Wormald
10-6-04