The mighty Hand, that moves the sea
The Creator of the Ideal, of you and me
The Landscape Artist, of all you see
The Hand that fashioned, all the trees
Who keeps the stars, within their path?
Holds the orbits of particles, that spin so fast
Daily raises the sun, so we have no fear
Provides all the sustenance, in this earthly sphere
All this is beyond, the mortals here
Some act like the creator, and dominant this sphere
They try to create things, to last through life
But many of their creations, wear down through earthly strife
What lasts longer, an object or a thought?
A builder’s stone, or what a philosopher taught?
Our earthly hands, that mold in clay
Create many things, which seem to fade away
But rising within self, to a precept clear
Entering into, the Idea Sphere
We come upon, a state of mind
That produces a solid, of another kind
And if inside, we strive further to see
We will touch the forever objects, of eternity.
Enjoy your day!
The Creator of the Ideal, of you and me
The Landscape Artist, of all you see
The Hand that fashioned, all the trees
Who keeps the stars, within their path?
Holds the orbits of particles, that spin so fast
Daily raises the sun, so we have no fear
Provides all the sustenance, in this earthly sphere
All this is beyond, the mortals here
Some act like the creator, and dominant this sphere
They try to create things, to last through life
But many of their creations, wear down through earthly strife
What lasts longer, an object or a thought?
A builder’s stone, or what a philosopher taught?
Our earthly hands, that mold in clay
Create many things, which seem to fade away
But rising within self, to a precept clear
Entering into, the Idea Sphere
We come upon, a state of mind
That produces a solid, of another kind
And if inside, we strive further to see
We will touch the forever objects, of eternity.
Enjoy your day!