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What do you choose for your pallet, O Lord, As you set up your Atlas, your easel. What do you splash on Aurora's skirts While Helios prepares for his ride. Do you borrow from Neptune's endless depths.
I used to Imagine that the stones. At the bottom of the river. Were made because. God took a little piece of the moon. Or the sun. Sanded it down. To its smooth smooth shape. Chiseled its divots.
Her beauty is that of a million diamonds glittering in the sun. Each reflecting its own ray of light making brilliant patterns. The angels gasp in the wake of her presence.
When the golden sunset. Sets over the amber hills. And when the moon shines bright. And all the world stands still. There is beauty, awesome beauty. God took the dust and formed a man.