Song Of Simon

And God said,

Look at her go, the daughter of my son, the daughter of my daughter, the wife to my son’s son, look at her go!

The daughters of the earth can’t stop envying her, her service satisfies, whatsoever she touches turns into gold, a suitable partner to tend the lilies in the garden she is. Look at her go!

Brushing past my son’s son, she leaves the lad without spirit, the cage to his heart uncaged, stealing his heart away, leaping and following… look at her go!

Her hair rounds in curls, black as ebony, shiny as satin, glitter is in her eyes, look at her soar. Invisible is her crown, her comely neck hides behind smooth light skin, her lips red as halved pomegranates, her apparel—a suit as deep as crimson, look at her go!

The lad rushes to her aid, enlightening her load, helping to carry her clay jar, which she had been carrying hitherto from the well. Look at him go. In a dream, it was shown to him that she was his betrothed. All the winds are in his favor, all creation cheers him on, look at him go!

He dares not to awaken young love, he knows that it is but young. He’s seen it in its womb, and like all children, he knows it shall have its time. The men encumber him. They tell him to kick down her door!

His brothers and sisters whisper, ‘Get a hold of her while it’s still dawn. Another might, before noon of day.’ They push him out the house, but foolishness is not his portion. He goes back to his room through his window and inquires of me. Look at him come!

His story is the best yet, he waits on his Lord which is yours truly…I say nothing of the matter and the world gets loud. He approaches late to the fields. The sheep haven’t had a Shepherd to tend to them.

The bears spring forth from the bushes, scattering the ewes and lambs. His mind wanders to the advice by his siblings. Time runs out! they said. Her departure from thee is nigh. They reassured. Look at him stray!

The gazelles watch by, as he wearies away in thought. Slumber takes a hold of the reins of his day, giving me a window to share my mind with him. Him I remind that I’m the author & finisher of his story. I remind him to hand the pen back to me. Look at him tarry!

His sister hands him a basket of fruit. Take to the fields with her, She said, but his other brother contended, Tell her what you feel. Force her to make lay. If she hastes not, tell her you too will be gone by noon of the day!

Perplexed he runs. Over the hills, into the valley he goes, until he finds her in her mother’s abode, my daughter. My daughter loves my son’s son. But my son has abandoned mine ways, falling for the voices of the noises.

My daughter lets them go to the fields. He enjoys his coming as her daughter beams with the brightest blush. She tells me no one has attempted to make her smile to that degree. “Every way of his evokes joy out of her,” she says. Look at them go.

As they dine, the lad’s mind is troubled by his brother’s words. My daughter’s daughter had already had such an exquisite time. She mentions of her troubles, and with his wisdom, he makes of them all chaff & dust. They spake of life unmolded, but he gave mold to life with every word that flowed it his lips. Look at him go!

It draws to midnight, and the sorcery of my son’s son’s brother grabs the reins of his mouth, forcing him to say what he’d wanted him to say. I foresaw it. I mute his throat whence his sound proceeded. Several times he attempted, but his voice I took. I had to forcefully return my pen from him!

My daughter’s daughter is glad he took her to the fields. We all smiled, as she climbed into the bed of her bedroom. Later, I chastised my son’s son! ‘Why so doth thou chastise me?’ I replied lovingly, ‘I chastise those that I love! Who told ye to do that? Why did thou dare to speak what I hadn’t told you to?’

For the first time he realized, he’d tried to do something without me. I spake unto him, saying, Lo, I maintaineth your lot, none shall snatch her away. Ye don’t have to explain yourself to anybody…For none of them made you!

And the lad said,

Forgive me my father. To dwell in the secret place, I had stopped. In thine shadow I was no longer tarrying. The sheep got scattered. I forgot all about my duties. My very own led me upon this path.

And I said,

I blame you not, neither your sister nor brother. Everyone thinks their story is the same as yours, and yet for each one, I write a different one. What worked for your brother might not work for ye.

And the lad said as they walked on towards the lad’s home,

The future is nolonger a mystery. By dream you showed me my end! My story you’ve authored and in you I’ll trust! I’ll return to the fields, and sing to thee. I’ll watch the sheep and tend the garden. Above all else, your word I’ll uphold!

And I said,

That’s good my child. All was written. Let me bring it all into play. Don’t help me. Trust & Obey. Just like by dream I revealed to you, peradventure I have to reveal it to her another way, in my own time, for I make everything beautiful in its time.

Know that since you’ve listened to me, you’ve seen by the heart and not the eyes…All will be well. Just because I showed ye the ‘who’ that doesn’t mean I showed you the ‘when’…

His eyes bulged as he exclaimed at the mention of the last sentence. He was so full. To have him back, I felt so good. He retired to his chambers, and was up making melody with a harp unto me in the congregation of the livestock.

He’s my son in whom I’m well pleased!

…..

It’s the cool of the evening. A visit to my daughter’s daughter I must make and I light the sun’s way. Look at me go; The flowers grow through her window, blessings lie in her wake, graced is she beyond her peers… Look at her DREAM!

Song of Solomon 6:1-2 WHERE HAS your beloved gone, O you fairest among women? [Again the ladies showed their interest in the remarkable person whom the Shulammite had championed with such unstinted praise; they too wanted to know him, they insisted.] Where is your beloved hiding himself? For we would seek him with you. [She replied] My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens and to gather lilies.

As you pursue your lover, or if you are the one being pursued, I beseech thee, do not leave the secret place. Do not take God out of the equation, trust him with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding or others’….

God wants to be wanted…and involved in every part of your life. Yes, even in your love life!