There are secret worlds hidden
Behind the door of each heart
That spring forth to life
When the music starts
We don’t always understand
Yet, we feel it the same
When melodies ascend
From each finely tuned frame
Sleepers wake to the rhythm
In time with the beat
Of pulsating hammers
Striking their strings
Souls are sustained
In the highs and the lows
In harmonious communion
He colors each note
Leading His flock
By the sound of His voice
They yield to His whisper
They sing and rejoice
Then, led by still waters
And on through the gate
They’ve learned His hammer doesn’t fall
Without Him feeling the weight
Resting in cadence
And pressing through pain
His instruments live and move
By the power of His Name
