Painting by the Master

He has all the room in the world,

to paint the pictures of His mind,

From the babe at mother's breast,

From beginning t'end of time.

There's no running off the page,

with the beauty at His hand,

So graceful is the lay of color,

that spreads across the land.

The highs and lows he paints,

the change in shadows and lights,

From blues to pinks and grays and greens,

to lavender glitter nights.

From the darkest salty shadow

the brightest fiery star,

His lightning strikes magnificent,

Weather near or weath' afar.

Part II:

So keep your eyes open and

cock your ears to this,

As well a painter is this One,

Musical talent, too, is his.

And if you listen closely to

the tiniest whispers sung

You may also hear His living paint

So softly wakened by the sun.

The gales resound their chirps,

the oceans play their wooshes,

While morning glistens on the still

and chipmunks dive in bushes.

Brooks and rivers babble

and giggle at the fishes,

While chickens bawk and cows gawk

and goats find trash delicious

Hummingbirds and bees buzz about

halloweening rose to daisy

And while the crickets fiddle lullabies

the world's going crazy...