While at Faithcamp, my companions and I climbed a 15 minute trail to find a mountain waterfall. I took abstract videos of the gentle rippling mountain stream to use behind my YouTube songs; it was wondrously peaceful. We ventured further up the frigid stream, rock to rock, to find the source. What a wonder! What glorious power! I jotted down a list of words that came to mind, wanting to form them in a poem later, to remember the vivid picture of the waterfall:
The life. The charge. The roar. Mighty song. Ever. Unfailing promise. Powered by isolation and winter. Worth. Fruit forth-flowing. To bless those in the valley.
My first draft was pretty, it's meter fitting rythym, but so void of symbolism. So I rewrote it into telling the Story from the grave, to the giving of the Holy Spirit and tongues of fire, to just praise and glory. What a glorious King, Savior, and Rock!
Here's the final poem:
Its source it comes from winter snow
The river frozen all alone
Then comes the thaw
Amid applause
And life returns out from the Rock
The life, the charge, the rush, the roar
The mighty song with music's soar
Unfailing stream
With golden gleams
The symphony burns from the Rock
Thus going forth to all the land
To thirsty ground it lends a hand
For fruit to bear
Fie drought's despair
The blessing flows out from the Rock
And like unto this water's source
Our gospel dew comes from our Lord
Storehouse of rain
Our lives' refrain:
"Glory be to God our Rock!"
