Songs Of Psalmist (What Is My Purpose)

CHAPTER 3 (Maker & Him)

A trumpet was blown, followed with another as the alto, and another soprano to complete the blend. The drum rolls and comes the heavy beats of the timpani with the boom of a bass drum and other percussive. Some fine woodwinds and brass from here and there. Then came the clash of the gong, in which the strings continued its soft and warm sustain.

A splendid score, truly a masterpiece. It has a quite powerful dynamics that may wake your passive consciousness and that may make your heart skip a beat.

The resonating music continues...

as the Psalmist joined in,

"Come ye, come all

in His Courts, vacuous
stupefying, stupendous,
extravagant, prodigious
trumpets & strings,
lilts, mellifluous

the heart, the cynosure
beaming, bedazzling, luminous
the Maker's realm, that's His
Come ye, come all"

His Courts is just like the setting in a classroom but bigger and grandeur like a king's throne room.  The creatures are in rows and columns at the center. And in front, like a teacher, we will see the Maker. Like a king, great and mighty is he.

Everything and everyone are shades of white, that we can only distinguish each by their forms and shapes. Everything was bright, but not as bright as the one seated in front.

Let us not dwell in the courts' portrait of splendiferousness, for the one seated on the throne is much more superb than His Courts.

Have you experienced that scenery where in a shop there are full of cool and useful devices that are known for their names, but there's just one little gadget towering them all at the display stand, that grabs the attention of all that came, for it is the brand new tech of the century? All lips are just talking about it and all eyes are just fixated in its magnificence. That's how we can describe the attraction in His Courts.

Nothing in the court can compare the splendor of the Maker. Like a silhouette, but not dark at all. Silhouette of shining flares where no shadows can conquer.

Actually, no one, not even the Psalmist, nor the Narrator, nor you, cannot (or should not) see the Maker's face directly. Try looking directly at the sun when it's up high, on second thought, don't ever do that, coz that would be foolish. For if someone foolishly look directly at the Maker with their bare eyes, then they will not only be deprived from their sight, but will quickly fell asleep, never to wake up again, never to see any light again.

"Whoooh..." the Maker gave an earth shattering blow, that if it is blown in our motherland, it may create a gargantuan tornado.

In front of him is Him. Him's chest was filled with air as the Maker's blow passes through him which makes his robes move rapidly in its direction.

A figure of a well-built man beholds our point of view. Try stretching your hand in front of a light bulb. You may not be able to see your fingernails, its wrinkles, the overall details of your hand. But you can still see its figure which covers parts of the bulb's bright light. That's how we can describe Him's image for now. For we are looking at his back where we can see the Maker's bright light in front of him. But even Him is bright, though again, nothing can compare the brightness of his maker.

With the Maker's authoritative voice, he said, "Him. Rise, my dear friend."

His looks I may not (or cannot) be able to share (for reasons you knew already), but I can happily tell you about his voice.

The Maker's voice is like the law. It's as if every word he says is a command. Even the Psalmist accepts that the Maker's voice tells a different story, greater than his, he can't compare.

If you can still remember the voice of the Psalmist, then the Maker's voice is more ravishing. If Psalmist is the guitar, then Maker are the notes himself with power that resounds even in an acoustic room. Maker's voice is higher that no mountains can reach, deeper that no oceans can contain, and wider that no universe can compare. It is always the absolute truth.

But within his voice, is a loving tune. It's like the melody of a young man courting his lover through harana in a romantic night. And if you can still remember the voice of your mother singing her lullaby to you when you were just a baby, humming that sweet soft calming familiar song, then it's like that. For his heart is like his voice, but even more pure and unconditional, none can compare from this world.

Him opened his eyes and slowly moved his lips.

"Him? That's a cool name," praised Him.

"For you are created like the ones that came before you, the ones that I hold dear. That's why Him is the name that I'll be giving you." explained the Maker with a smile so tender (if we can only see his face).

Him replied with a bow, "Thank you, my maker."

"In the beginning, I created something awesome. Now it's your beginning, make something awesome," the Maker declared, "For your joy will not be complete if you did not heed the call. For this is your purpose..."

Him fervently listened to the instruction of the Maker...

"... now, you will be my hands and feet for this mission..."

The Psalmist reiterated through another song,

"Aghast, a vacuous sheet
Behold, a voice, comely strokes 'n beat
Features patterns and shapes, 'twas a feast
A painting from its original manuscript
Drawing colors, t'was a great feat

In the beginning,
The Maker spoken and was done
In shinin' shimmering splendor,
He created something awesome

In front,
In His Courts,
Reflects Him's image
And the Maker says,
"Now, it's your beginning,
Make something awesome""

~~~~~o~~~~~

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