The Song I Came to Sing…

Two lines from Tagore suggest a subject: “The song that I came to sing remains unsung…I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument.”

Stringing and unstringing our instruments – taking out and putting away – going through motions, routine; skimming the surface and not getting down – at least not enough to the real thought, the real facts, the real work, the real purpose and performance.

As time passes, and as we see the passing seasons, we must sometimes ask ourselves how much of our time we give to the trivial. Thinking is hard. Learning is hard. Living is hard – disciplined living, with standards, principles, purpose; and life is much more than motions and the needs of the moment; more than merely putting in time; more than merely getting by; more than the perfunctory filling of assignments. We must look beyond the surface to the real substance – to learning; to serving; to searching and not fearing to face facts – not fearing to look beyond the short and little look; beyond the trivial little talk; beyond the little circle that goes round and round and repeats itself – but repenting, improving; knowing better, doing better, being better. There is a song for each of us to sing, a song of much significance, as the cycles moves through the swift passing seasons.

To turn again to Tagore: “Yes, we shall really go on living,” he said, “so we must make our life worth its eternity,” and not sadly have to say: “The song that I came to sing remains unsung…I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument.”