The Song of Love in Crowds of Hate

We went down...

Mothers and fathers; and townspeople from the village: Down to hear the menacing sounds: To the edge of the forbidden forest.

 Awakened by the sounds of troubled youth and the sound of taught violence: A darkened song was heard within our village.

And as they screamed and fanned the flames; we heard a darkened sound. No smiles on children's eyes; no hands up to the skies.

No sounds of goodness, truth, or beauty: No creative sounds to help them sing the songs they used to sing. No songs of love to share as in their youth.

How did they miss the songs so dear? How did these dreadful sounds eclipse the Song of Love? It's all so very loud and wreaks of violence.

The elders warned of the plague of evil that could arise. Even as our lives were enriched and prejudices waned, as people learned to love their brothers all the same.

But those with an angry quest besieged the minds of our innocent youth, and began their evil quest, before we learned there was even a war.

We'll go down and ask them what happened to the joyous songs...

“The forest voices came within the night; and taught us to hate” they said.

“But why seek pain when peace is here?” I said: “Why sit in hate in the dark, when the sun comes every morning? Why stir up strife when the world has enough of it's own?”

“We tried to shun the dark voices; but you were in the fields to make our meals- and make our clothes at night; and we went down to hear its sounds.”

“The voices, although dark and grim- surrounded us and found their way within; and taught us all to hate. We heard them before the morning light. We heard them in the darkened night: When we were left alone.”

“They found a voice within our schoolhouse and in our music. They came within the village plays, and though you held my hand, you didn't speak; and subtle lies did find their way inside my mind.”

“They conjured us with melancholy songs, and made gloomy thoughts seem right. They covered all our sunlit days with a gloomy glimpse of night.”

“We thank you for the work you did: For your labor in our childhood days. But as your body tired in the night, the voices came inside our rooms- through village songs in the fields, and on the paths we walked.”

“You said “everyone's the same”, You showed us in the way you lived, In all the ways you learned to love. I remember it all now, though distant in my mind. But I've since learned from those outside, among the forest sounds at night.”

“Too many voices: Too many words in my mind to know what's right. Your loving days of warmth and care did fade into the night.

“Love everyone” you said: Both black and white, or yellow, red, or brown, and learn to love those all around.

“But as you warned-- my childhood innocence will only last a while. It's also true with smiles. For we were told that all those words of love and care were not real; and were only for a selfish end; and not for what they seemed.”

“Can't you remember our warning of the forest' edge; the darkened sound within those hills was not for you to hear. To stay away and not go near them in the night? To stay out of reach of the forest?”

“I do. But a thousand other voices came in the night, and the voices in the forest come within the village; and their voices were all around. They no longer lingered in the forest, but found their place within our village walls. As tares and weeds, they grew up among us: Waiting for times of discontent.”

“But I remember now! You reminded us: Why seek pain when peace is here? Why sit in hate in the dark, when the sun comes every morning? Why stir up strife when the world has enough of it's own?”

“I can hear His Song again! I see the birds now. Their many colors and joyous sounds. I remember now. I hear the sound. It's all around me and never left!”

“Can you hear the Song of Love again?”

“Yes I can! This is my story. This is my song. Praising my Savior; all the day long.”

“Thank you mother; and thank the elders. I remember those who taught us truth- and who taught the Song of Love.”

“Though innocence is gone. Though voices stole my mind and darkness ruled. Never shall they claim my mind again! Not through an evil song or man made strife. The Truth will make me free again, and never rule the night!”

“What will you do, I'm too old to venture to the fields: To the places where your friends are now. I'll fall upon my knees as you go to the forest path. My prayers will be for you- and for those you'll meet along the way. The Lord bless you and keep you; and make His face to shine upon you and give you peace.”

“Thank you mother. I'll go down...”

“Down to warn my friends, and especially the unshaped minds, and innocent eyes- and warn them before their eyes are darkened. I'll pray and ask the Lord to open their ears to hear His Song again.”

“I will tell of my awakened heart: Expose the lies and teach the truth, and show them where to start; and hear the Song of Love again.”

“I'll tell of Christ who died for them to set them free; and through truth and love they can hear the birds again. For they were there all along. We were told to ignore the redeeming songs of love: To only listen to the crows and ravens; and ignore the nightingales and sparrows.”

“I'll tell them all to listen: To hear the sparrows and the nightingales. They're all along the way. On every path and every road among the trees; and on the places where we leaned. Some may not listen; and may choose the dark and hateful way- and live in hate and pain.”

“But as for me, I'll speak to those who'll listen! Whether in the fields, or on the forest edge; I'll go to the highways and biways and compel them to come and hear the Song of Love. I'll make my voice to shout and sing, and cloud the hate they bring.”

“For why seek pain when peace is here? Why sit in hate in the dark when the sun comes every morning? Why stir up strife when the world has enough of it's own?”

“I'll go down”...

“Down to every village and every nearby town, and find the hearts that frown. I'll find the sparkle they once had: The lost love: Hidden in the eyes of a child: Lost on their sojourn of hate.”

“If I find that only a few will hear- I'll point them to the Light. And though I know not all will come and seek the light, the few that do will hear the Song- and Love will win for them.”

“I'll go down”...

“I'll remind them that we're all the same. Every one. Different on the outside. But those who'll learn to hear His Song; will hear it just the same.”

“Reminding us we're all the same. Though Different skin. Though from a different land or different shore. They'll learn to love, and hate no more.”

“I'll pray in the fields, and in the forest edge; and encounter them on the path. Even in the midst of violent voices- and the risk of pain and a violent end. Upon my knees – I'll intercede for their restless hearts and adolescent angst and anger.”

“It's better to sing the Song of Love in the midst of the angered crowds- than to sit at home in peace while innocent hearts are dying. I'd rather die and reach one soul- then live in peace and comfort while childhood innocence is stolen.”

“I may be crushed amid the strife and war, and the screams of lost innocence. If I don't return; don't cry for me; for I'll awake in the arms of Jesus- and we'll sing His Song of Love together. Rather- Cry for those who'll be lost amid the crowds: Those who will fall to it's spell of hate: Who'll find comfort in darkness.

“But as for me, I'll not seek pain when peace is here? I'll not sit in hate in the dark when the sun comes every morning. I'll no longer stir up strife when the world has enough of it's own?”

“I'll sing the song of my youth once again. I'll go down to them and sing His Song of Love”...

Awakened by the morning sun; the dew upon the morning leaves:

Reminding us of Natures call, reminding us Who made it all:

The Wonders of His Song.

Who walked with us- but for a time; and briefly made His home.

Though Transcendent: He did visit us: Now immanently near.

Who made His will and Nature known.

Some through the ages heard His song, among the hills and skies.

Awakened by His Morning Song, and wrote the words to teach us all.

His Music for our lives.

Some pastures rang with children's noise, some wrote of it with song and prose.

Some troubadours did write the songs, to help them sing along.

And those in tune to God- did write the lyrics that He chose.

Some were shepherds. Some were sheep. Some awake. Some now asleep.

They heard the sound. They heard His call. They heard His Love among it all.

And found the Way of Love.