My feet are bare, my toes are curled
I stand upon the wet winter morning grass

My arms are down, my nose is up
The winter morning wind is on my face

But as I stand there, what is to catch my eye?
It is, indeed, the winter morning sky

How I love it, the way the sky glistens beyond the treetops
The rainbow of orange, pink, then purple

This show of colors, it brings the cardinal and redbreasts out their nests to sing
And yes, we do have them in the winter

This display of wonder
How it makes me feel so warm yet so cool

This display of beauty
How it makes me feel at home yet so far away

This display of greatness
That paints the whole sky from horizon to horizon

This display of colors
How they dance across the sky from cloud to cloud

It's beautiful, isn't it?
How He starts every winter morning with His artwork

His brush strokes are perfect
He makes sure every colored cloud is in its place

He truly is a genius
To think He does this every morning, different every time

To think
It's so beautiful and complex, so elegant

To think
He does it on purpose, just for us

To think
Every winter morning, He sits down, and paints the winter morning sky

#12_2/25/2012