Before the scampering of little feet.
Crescent still hanging, high in the sky,
Though the blue is fading since orange will arise.
The waves are crashing—been at it all night;
Not slightly affected by my “out-of-sight.”
The sand awaits flip-flops, looking for treasures—
A taste of the depths we’re unable to measure.
And You reigning High, still painting the sky
Beauty and splendor—forever.
It amazes my soul that You think of me,
Not once, not twice, in a day;
But thoughts innumerable, precious and sweet,
So vast they outnumber the grains.
If we would just look—open our eyes,
Awake from our tired, endless slumber.
We would then see, Your love continuously,
Lavished and gracing in wonder.
I love you, Lord!
For further nourishment: Psalm 139