At the word of the Maker, the earth
Is brought forth to revolve round the sun
To the praise and the glory of one
Who possesses an infinite worth.
He shines forth from perfection’s high’st form,
From great Zion, with sounds of a choir.
Ev’ry step is preceded by fire;
When he walks, he is shrouded in storm.
His salvation is given, not bought,
For he owns all that we could present.
Sacrifices for vices are spent,
Yet they profit the Almighty naught.
So walk not in the pathways of death.
Ponder life ‘fore your lips claim his pow’r.
Let the fear of the Lord fill each hour,
And let thanksgiving fill ev’ry breath.
Maker
Awestruck
How can eternity be fit into
A heart wrapped up in temporality?
Can lying lips do justice to the True?
The finite comprehend infinity?
We quake before the whispers of his ways.
Who then could stand before his thund’rous might?
This God who is, the all-consuming blaze –
He dwelleth unapproachable in light.
And yet, in Christ, the Maker made a way
For mortal man to know immortal love.
And Beauty – more than words could ever say –
Became the Revelation from above.
Communion takes the place of death in sin
As God makes blinded eyes to see again.
Photo by chuttersnap on Unsplash