Notes to be played, sounds to be made
The faceless conductor conducts the composition of my life.
Every drum, every string,
Every horn, even the triangle’s ring
He plays them altogether perfectly.
This composition is perfect in itself
Because He’s perfect all by himself
And He knows how everything else
Should line up on the bass and treble clef.
He knows when to cue in an A sharp
When to silence a B flat
When the drums should roll indefinitely
And when the horns should take a rest.
This composition is my life
Each instrument representing
A person, place, or thing
Playing
A role that is much bigger than perceived.
Understanding that it is the conductor
That decides which instrument
Should lead.
He knows the exact harmony the composition
Is going to portray
And at any given staff
Some instruments will not even get to play.
The composition is too important
For it has been fearfully and wonderfully made.
My only choice is to let the Conductor conduct
Instead of relying on luck not promised.
My standing ovation is for You My Conductor.
-Ashe
8/11/05
