Hills that skip and trees that clap
the mountains seem to cheer.
The stars can sing . . . how shall I bring
my note of praise to hear?
An autumn sun reveals Your love
’cause harvest time is on.
When curses loose, then joy’s the fruit
sweet succulence from God.
Lame can leap, the mute can talk
life bursts from desert sands.
All sorrow knows that it must go
before the great I AM.
~
I think that joy must simply be
release from every binding thing,
each burden from the Fall –
the resonance of Rich Romance
when I hear my Maker’s call.
~
Joy is just the way things were
when God first said, “It’s good.”
So let me have a joyful heart
and thankfulness of soul.
A river knows which way to flow . . .
so I will too, as I’m renewed . . .
quietly cleansed . . . in Gentleness carried . . .
wrapped in the Arms of Love.
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