God has spread his beauty out across the sky,
twinkling in his majesty—
a shimmer of breath upon the silence.
We, born of dust and destined for fire,
exist now with tools sculpted by his eternal hand—
to feel,
to hear,
to experience,
to be
as we once were not.
It is a beauty.
He has looked upon the face of an eternal depth,
and in return,
given us eternal depths
to share in his wealth—
a wellspring of honey within the smoothness of water,
each drop a memory of creation,
each ripple a whisper from before time.
And when the eyes close—
the ones bound to the world—
there opens a second seeing:
the eyes that cannot see
and yet see clearer still,
staring into the face of the deep
where light has no need of itself,
and majesty
no need of display.
There,
within the hush between heartbeats,
beauty does not arrive—
it is.
It flows—
not from the sky,
but from within,
where God
has spread his beauty.
