God's glory and handiwork is shown in the skies,
Madame Day holds classes each morning.
God’s craft is displayed across the horizon,
Professor Night lectures every evening.
The words they speak are never heard,
And their voices are never recorded.
Their silence surrounds the earth,
And the unspoken truth is rewarded.
God makes a super dome, a home for the sun,
In the morning it’s like a new groom,
As he leaps from his honeymoon bed.
Like an athlete running the race.
God's Word pole-vaults across the skies,
Melting ice and scorching deserts,
Warming hearts to faith, til their set.
© Doug McVicar – 30th January 2009