His Handiwork

Psa. 19:1

The Heaven's declare the glory of God,

His handiwork is there for all;

In the beautiful glaze of an evening sky,

Or the colors of the Fall.

In the beauty of a comet,

The deep radiance of the sun;

The stars and planets that float in space,

Which by His fingers were hung.

The beauty of a rainbow,

That shimmers after the rain;

And the wondrous sight to behold,

Fields full of ripening grain.

The meadows filled with flowers,

Of every color and hue;

And the tiny birds that bathe,

In the early morning dew.

The quiet trickle of the stream,

The happy bubble of a brook,

The peacefulness of a mountain lake,

That deserves a second look.

The morning showers that gently fall,

Bringing moisture to the earth;

The rise and fall of the tides,

And the pounding of the surf.

The mighty oak that towers,

Over birch and maple tree's;

The flowering shrubs that welcome,

Each little honey bee.

The rolling hills and valleys,

Mountains rugged and grand;

Canyons deep and dark,

And the shores glistening sand.

The grandness of a midnight storm,

The lightening that streaks the sky;

The mighty boom of thunder,

As it sounds it loud reply.

The lion and the tiny ant,

Both strong in their own way;

The fierceness of a winter wind,

And the quiet break of day.

God is everywhere you look,

Creation, His canvas of choice;

We're told if we don't give Him praise,

The rocks will cry out with voice!

So praise to the Lord of Lord,

And glory to the King;

For He who lives within my heart,

Is the maker of all things.