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Desiring to be quickened. The dark World of the Womb lay dormant. Waiting the Master's Touch. In that fertile secret place, The Master, ever so gently, Caressed till form took shape. Fusing the chamber with life. Fashioning a simple chord, The Master whispered a chosen name. Song burst forth from the darkness. Painting the sky with iridescent light. Tuning the notes to perfection. Inhaling its scent as costly perfume. Loving its melody from everlasting to everlasting. The Master sparked the Songs potential. Delighted to have learned its purpose. The Song offers its sweet notes willingly. Reflecting the Glory of the Master. Echoing the Magnificence of God. Copyright(c)2000 Roberta Lee Wilcox  
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