We are told that the heavens declare
the glory of God.
Yet, transparent encircling air
seems medium odd.
When brightness brings to bear its presence
praise doesn't need aid
ilum'ning aerial polutants
or creation's shade.
The mornings dawn with oranges, pinks,
rosy, reds, and golden
light diffusing white which slowly slinks
across earth frozen.
Ever evolving blue, light, and cloud
and 'bove human heads showing aloud
awe for the seer.
Sunset tugs down past the horizon
light fights the good fight
to finally grasp man's attention
displaying prism bright
The heavens aren't finished even
as this unrained bow
sprawls, reaches aback the wide heaven
slowly sliding low.
Still, still splendor becomes manifest
stars shine overhead;
moon in her courses wanes and waxes
ruling at His stead
Day after day and night after night.
the Artist's canvas
crafted and drawn; a joy of delight.
Note we the brilliance.