You may think it's accursed --
I mean the Earth.
Yet there is no dearth
To the witnesses
Of a Universe
Most blessed from One above.
The majestic roars of the ocean,
Thunderous claps from heaven,
Shout of divine accent.
Owls' hoots,
The crackling of firewood
Evoke my pensive moods.
Howling winds
Foretell of a storm brewing.
The pitter patter of little feet
Testifies of parenthood sweet
Bravo, who could have orchestrated this concerto!
"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands... there is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard." Psalm 19:1,3