Praise Him

 

Today I'm sharing another poem, from even earlier in my teen years.

 Praise Him

The big red sun has slipped away

   Leaving the clouds an array of color

      Stretching gently o'er the earth

          So close, they seem!

The dried weeds nod in a slight breeze

   Spotting the green field with brown

      Bowing in solemn reverence

         To their Creator.

The birds fly or sit in a tree

   Singing to each other

      Their last songs for the day

         Praising the One who made them.

The trees look and listen

   Whisper among themselves

      Of the love they have

          For their loving Lord.

Why can’t people get away

   To look at the wonders

       To look at the wonders

         Seen around them

            Made by my dear Friend?

Wendy Kaye

                                  (June 18, 1977)