Summer Lullaby

The cicadas chirp gently in the summer dark. I sit here in the stillness, staring at a door that separates me from the outside air--separating me, perhaps, from the infinity of space that is beyond that divide. I feel a tug to run and fling that door open, to dive into that summer song and be swept away into the night on the wings of a soothing lullaby. It's that ambient noise that serves as the backdrop for those First Kiss conversations--the kind of talks between he and she that end in a new beginning. Or perhaps it's the serenade to which a dreamer looks at the sky and thinks, "I love. And it is good that I do." Even more so, it is the whisper of peace from the lips of a Gentle, Magnificent God--gentle enough to create such a sound, magnificent enough to draw us to Himself through such a simple chirp. On the song of serenity goes, and yet here I sit on the wrong side of the door. It's funny how often we're on the wrong side of the door, remaining without venturing beyond.