The Makings of a Song
by Christopher HostettlerFrom the beat, to the rhythm, to the rhyme, to the chime,
To the sticking and the kicking of the drummer keeping time,
To the riffin', to the rippin', to the rockin', to the roll,
To the swingin' and the slingin' of the song within the soul,
To the jingle, to the jangle, to the jiggin', to the jam,
To the jazzy fabrication of a highly polished plan,
Picking melodies that move with the hearer's inner groove
And the timely application of the rocky or the smooth . . .
Add a light alliteration
Plus a touch of intonation,
Slowly build anticipation,
Tighten with triangulation—
Now crescendo rising faster,
Riding ridgelines of disaster
As the lyrics teeter totter
On the edge of deeper water!
Diving down, it cuts to heart,
Breaks apart the hearer's wall,
Flying like a flaming dart,
Forcing the facade to fall,
Strings and vocals taking turns,
Echoing through heaven's halls,
Digging in, the song discerns
Deep concerns, and calmly calls:
"Come to Christ all thirsty list'ners;
He alone holds heaven's key.
Pities he the devil's pris'ners;
Make him King and ye shall see
What sacrificial love is like,
What power there can be
In his death-defying strike,
His Golgotha victory!"
The song cries out; it yearns to shout!
Each word and note are all about
The hearer's grave condition and
The Master's perfect plan.
It fractures fears and fills with hope
The humble heart that cannot cope,
Burdened and weighed down by sin
But lifted now within!
The movement of the music makes
The host of heaven heave and quake.
It quickens Christ's return to earth,
Fostering believer's birth,
Shakes awake the sleeping slumber'r,
Making bold the meekly mumbl'r,
Moving mountains in the realm
Of unseen things—Christ at the helm!
This symphony of sounds, it seems
To drift and pulse like perfect dreams.
It teems with passion, picks up steam,
Then lulls and wafts like coffee cream.
Meandering as peaceful streams,
Shimmering, it glints and gleams
Traversing dimly lit regimes.
As dawn breaks forth, it brightly beams!
The song continues through all weather;
Storms and basslines work together.
Thunder ripples, roars, and rumbles;
Earthly idols crack and crumble
As the ground beneath their feet
Is shaken, stirred, and struck with heat—
Horns that bellow, sticks that streak
At lightning speed to win the weak!
Melodies on top are lush,
Leaving crowds in silenced hush.
Telling stories with each chord,
Stringed instruments extol the Lord—
Orchestral beauty, sleek, supreme,
Seeking always to redeem,
Packing punches, making holes,
Reaching in to rescue souls.
Interludes are interwoven,
Leaving room for softly spoken
Whisperings of secret things—
Confessions that conviction brings.
The list'ner isn't left alone here,
Viewing in the mirror his smear—
Surprising syncopations sound
Of grace and mercy all around!
Forgiveness rings out like a bell—
Free ticket from the door of hell!
"Repent!" the music doth implore.
"Repent!" and surely don't ignore
The beckonings of Christ within,
Urging all to turn from sin.
The climax of the song, it sings
That now's the time to make him King!
Today's the day! Life is brief!
Peel back the skin, look underneath!
Listen to the deeper rhythms;
Pick apart contorted prisms
Keeping souls in locked up prisons.
Trumpet that the truth is risen!
Pick up pieces where they lay;
Play a part and join the fray!
This song invites all instruments,
In layered rhythms rich and dense,
To cling, clang, clash, crash,
Stick, spin, splash, smash,
String, strum, whistle, hum,
Sound the horn and kick the drum,
Resonating smooth vibrations,
Overcoming hesitations!
The beat goes on and never ends—
Jig, jive, jazz, jam.
The Spirit of the Lord—he sends
This rockin', rollin' psalm of slam.
The harmony, so smooth, so tight—
Riff, rip, ride, ram—
It swings and slings the song just right,
Lauding, lifting up the Lamb!
This poem won first place for the
December 2022 poetry contest
