Holy Music,                                            
Your evening notes                                  
sing across the sky.                                 
Could a lutist play that melody?                 
If so,                                                    
it would soar                                          
 lifting hearts                                 
		to the highest.                   
   It would dip                                            
into the deepest valleys                 
with fullness                                           
with care                                               
holding the note.                                     
You—you would hold your breath till breaking
And whisper a                                         
		sigh                               
for having heard Love’s lullaby.                   

March 2020, Norma Wrightly