In the course of everyday living

In a world with its angry pace.

Some are blind to the beauty of God’s creation

They deem it as commonplace.

Take a look at the crimson sunset

With its ever-changing hue.

Then see the purple twilight

Gently erase it from view.

In the Spring, we see living tendrils

Emanate from mother earth’s breast.

The earth again verdant with new life

As it awakens from Winter’s rest.

Take a look at the aurora borealis

Stretch lact fingers across the sky.

Or hear the wind in the treetops.

Now moaning, then whisper a sigh.

And look at the smallest of spectrums,

A tiny drop of dew,

It holds within it the colors

Of the rainbow, all anew.

Yes, great is The Lord of Creation.

Who sits on the mercy seat.

This earth, we read, is His footstool.

The place where He plants His feet.

And we, who are a drop of a bucket

And of this footstool merely dust,

We raise our hearts in pride and conceit.

We boast in our carnal lust.

But God, in His infinite mercy.

Sent His Son to set me free.

He wrought, for me, salvation

On Calvary’s accursed tree.

Oh Lord God of Creation,

Thou who knowest my frame,

I am now thy new recreation,

HALLOWED BE THY NAME!