In His world, the dawn gets up each morning
With silver bows around the clouds,
And gold is spilled like water
Over the edge of the crystal sky
To clear away the night's silk shrouds.
In His world, the flowers bloom in greeting
And the meadows don his favorite hues,
As the creatures go about their business
Under the canopy of light,
Knowing that he approves.
In His world, all nature is attendant,
And watching, waiting, perfect, pure,
As life unfolds its drama day by day,
Moving to the harmony of grace,
And knowing that all is well and sure.
PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR,
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