The Master's World

A Poem

He looked and saw that it was good,
This miracle of light:
This living world, this brotherhood,
That song in feathered flight.

He poured on us His endless grace
To bless the breathing earth:
To fill the crafted human face
In promise of rebirth.

We are His perfect workmanship,
Pure vessels of the height
Wrought for living fellowship
With high and holy light:

This golden, green, and woven whole,
And swinging sphere of land,
And every shivered poem soul
Bear image of His hand.