Natalie Grant – Love Revolution

I’m surprised to find myself listening to Natalie Grant’s Love Revolution quite a bit. If you’ve heard her previous albums, like I have, and didn’t care too much for their sound, give this one a listen. Natalie’s true voice is unhindered on this album and it’s a beautiful, soaring, powerful voice one just has to listen to in order to appreciate.

In this picture…

In this picture is a bale of hay. Another, smaller, lies to its right, some ways away. Dead grasses lie before it. The brown specks of Autumn lie behind. The waning sun shines upon it all and grants the place life and being…

In this picture is a bale of hay. Another, smaller, lies to its right, some ways away. Dead grasses lie before it. The brown specks of Autumn lie behind. The waning sun shines upon it all and grants this place life and being. A shadow is cast from this bale but it can not reach the fence on which you sit nor darken the thing I seek. The sun sets and Fall approaches, and it will endure many years.

Without this picture is another. It is cold, lifeless. The dead winter.

But there is no other picture, and, in this, is why sunshine can be seen breaking forth from the frame, does strike my face, and warms again my heart to hope.

In this dream…

In this dream stands a man. Two horses, two riders, two women before him. In his eyes is recognition.

In this dream stands a man. Two horses, two riders, two women before him. In his eyes is recognition. To his left a sidewalk. Its road vaguely running off to the school of his youth. A void stillness fills the place and a foreboding encroaches. An unknown urge for flight swarms his senses. Feet think before thought. He is taken away, sidewalk blurring, a surreal shifting of vision as the picture swims past him. Across the road he leaps, over to the opposite sidewalk; There he sees the second horse already astride. With a leap he is behind the rider. And the elements rush past. The first horse overtakes, storming on the road to their left. He scrambles to the ground. He runs and leaps once more, up behind the rider. The rider, and he, gallop. Their end is unknown.