horizon to horizon,
one day after another,
night after night.
They speak in a celestial tongue
that transcends language!
Their proclamation extends from pole to pole,
from east to west,
from the moment the sun leaps out of bed
until it kisses the moon goodnight.
As you speak in Creation,
you speak in the perfection of your Word,
which refreshes the soul as a mountain stream slakes a hiker's thirst.
Your utterances bring clarity,
like first light drawing shapes out of shadows.
Your precepts are as welcome
as raindrops on drooping leaves.
Your commands make perfect sense,
as rising temperatures chase the fog.
Your whispers refresh the soul
like an afternoon breeze in summer.
Every sentence and syllable you speak
is sure and sweet,
more pleasing than an autumn day
or flowers in spring,
and sweeter than the juiciest watermelon,
fresh from the vine.
Your words teach and guide,
and help and bless.
You even speak in the human heart,
to cajole and convict,
to cleanse and recreate.
Speak to me in my innermost parts,
and root out the worst parts of me.
Let my voice sound like yours,
let my life speak of you,
my Lord, my rock, and my redeemer.
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