Song Of The Earth
There is a harmony to life that taken together forms a symphony that is only unveiled by the music of the spheres. It is an on-going melody that changes through the ages but never loses its beauty. That is, until recently on geological time scales.
For this symphony began eons ago with the rush of breeze and the rustle of leaves. The tune is carried in the squawks and chirps of all the birds; and the timing is kept by the rolling tide and the rhythm is the rain! Each new advance in life adds its song and enhances the sounds. Taken together it forms the song of the earth and life is the lyric.
Early on in our time was added the babbling and cooing of infants and the sweet nothings whispered between lovers. But all in all the favored one has produced a cacophony of traffic jams and the clash and clamor of sabre and shell. The symphony turns sour under the impetus of civilization. We are told that we are slightly less than angels, with their golden harps and flutter of wings. Not only would the world be sweeter without us, it would sound better, too! Maybe God erred; perhaps angels should people the earth. Then and only then would the music of the spheres equal the song of the earth. But it never will if we are just that slightly less than angels.
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