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 dominate 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. Steve
Enjoy your day with love, in love and through love