Nature's Divine Praise
Hearts that break, and feel they'll never heal
The choices we make, and memories we steal.
The sky still cries
The grass still grows
The sun still dries
The wind still blows
Live that are taken, world that shatter,
lies we take in, that our life doesn't matter.
The sky still cries
The grass still grows
The sun still dries
The wind still blows
Why does the earth rejoice, when I'm stuck with a choice?
Why does the sun still shine, when all isn't fine?
How can the birds praise when life is in a haze?
Butterflies still flying, while inside I'm dying?
The sky still cries
The grass still grows
The sun still dries
The wind still blows
The leaves let go, and accepts the snow.
Old man winter relents, and blossoms are sent.
The sun goes ablaze, and welcomes fall's haze.
What is the Earth doing that I am not?
It rejoices for what's given, and mourns not it's lot.
It worships it's creator, has faith for every season.
It trusts has hope, it knows it's purpose has a reason.
Why is my faith so small?
Why won't this mountain drown?
When vines reach a wall, they reach for the sky not the ground.
What can you learn from nature?
It's God's distinct design.
If we are made in His image, why is our praise not more divine?