There's something grand and glorious about wind chimes turning the wind into music. I want to shake the hand of the man (or woman) who invented them. I bought some chimes last spring and wondered if I'd get sick of them after awhile. At times they sound like an Adele song (Turning Tables), at other times Owl City. In the winter when I hear them, the sound warms me up, hence the poem I wrote last January:
Wind chimes, O wind chimes
How cheerfully you do play
And all the coldness in my bones
Now seems to melt away
(I didn't say it was great poetry.) When a storm approacheth, they play a warning. On a hot summer night, the chimes bring a promise of cool breezes. When it's too windy for the water fountain, the chimes remind me to turn it off. How can you get sick of something so delightfully versatile? I wonder now how I ever did without them.
Jesus said to Nicodemus, "The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit.” Maybe there are heavenly wind chimes in the spiritual realm which make a musical proclamation every time someone is born of the Spirit. Happy thought, that. At least for me.
Music, the greatest good that mortals know,
And all of heaven we have below
Joseph Addison
Music alone with sudden charms
Can bind the wand'ring sense,
And calm the troubled mind.
William Congreve
Sudden charms, calm for the troubled mind, all of heaven we have below...and to think you can grab hold of all of that by turning the wind into music. Carpe Diem, people!
Praise him with the timbrel and dance:
praise him with stringed instruments and the pipe.
Psalm 150:4
