Poetry on God's Creation "And creation's wonders are but the outer fringe of God's works; how faint the whisper we hear of him!"---Job 26: 14
Friday, April 22, 2011
There is a silence in the staid night, And a mockingbird calls by the shining moon His cry is the loneliness of black-dyed skies Glad with the cosmos' fair-flung boon. White wings lift like storks in the painted shade Leaves whisper thanks as they flutter down, Through the still shadow, magnolias hush: One single feather drifts onto the ground.