The Maker of All We See

Each blade of grass, each drop of rain,
Each flower dancing in the field—
They tell the story of His power,
They bear the truth we cannot shield.

The eagle soaring on the wind,
The lion’s roar, the sparrow’s flight,
All crafted by the Master's hand—
Each moment born from holy might.

The colors in the evening sky,
The glow of moon on desert sand,
The rhythm of the tides that turn—
All echo from Jehovah’s hand.

No human brush could stroke such stars,
No mind could craft the wings of bees.
He formed the planets, dust to flame,
And shaped the depths of hidden seas.

The eyes we use to see the world,
The breath we take, the hearts that beat,
Are gifts designed with sacred care—
A perfect, endless work complete.

Look close, and in the smallest things,
You’ll find the thumbprint of the Lord—
In veins of leaves and drops of dew,
His silent song is underscored.

So lift your gaze, O soul of dust,
And see beyond what eyes reveal—
For all we touch, and all we know,
Was made by One both vast and real.

Jehovah reigns, Creator true,
No rival shares His throne or right.
He shaped the world we daily view—
And called it good with purest light.

The golden sun obeys His voice,

And climbs each day across the dome.
He calls it forth with just a word,
And sets it like a king at home.

The colors in the setting sky,
The purple dusk, the crimson flame—
Are brushstrokes from His heart of fire,
Each hue a whisper of His name.

The stars that blink in endless space,
Each numbered by His perfect mind,
Are candles lit in heaven’s vault,
So we may see His glory shine.

No sculptor shaped the antelope,
No poet formed the ocean's tide—
Jehovah shaped them all by hand,
With strength no limit can confide.

The leopard's spots, the zebra’s stripes,
The wings that hum upon the breeze,
The coral reefs, the desert stones,
Were placed with awe-inspiring ease.

The moon obeys Him every phase,
She shines with borrowed, holy light.
And tides respond like dancing waves
To keep His rhythm through the night.

The clouds parade in silent praise,
The lightning speaks in sudden flame.
The rain descends as heaven’s kiss—
Each droplet carries forth His name.

He carved the canyons, deep and wide,
He raised the hills with gentle care.
He etched the rivers into stone,
And placed the birds to nestle there.

He clothed the lilies of the field,
More grand than kings in royal dress.
He feeds the sparrows when they cry—
Their flight upheld by faithfulness.

He breathed on dust and man arose,
With eyes to see His grand design.
We walk through wonders every day,
Each one declaring, “He is mine.”

The laughing child, the mother’s smile,
The wrinkle on the elder’s face—
Each one a portrait, signed and sealed
By hands of mercy, truth, and grace.

The mighty whales in ocean deep,
The beetle small beneath a leaf—
From greatest beast to lowly worm,
Each made by Him beyond belief.

No craftsman forged the peacock's tail,
No builder laid the rainbow's span.
Jehovah spoke — and it was done,
By word alone, not tools of man.

The scents of pine, the taste of rain,
The echo in a canyon wall—
All senses shout what eyes behold:
Jehovah God is Lord of all.

The silence of a forest path,
The rhythm of the falling snow,
Each moment speaks of perfect care—
A love that formed the world we know.

The eyes we use to see His work,
The skin that feels the sun's warm kiss,
The ear that hears the songbird sing—
Were all designed for joy like this.

He needs no help, no architect.
No flaws are found in what He’s made.
Creation bows beneath His feet,
Its order set and never swayed.

So praise the Lord with lifted eyes,
Let every sight your soul delight.
For all you see, and all you are,
Exists beneath Jehovah’s light.