Monday, August 8, 2011

Jeweler

I think a Jeweler made the sky
I think He uses metals bright
He spread Himself an onyx sheet

And placed it over Earth at night

I think He took a crystal clear
And broke into many shards
He poured them out into the black
And we looked up and called them stars


He minted once a silver coin
And hung it out and called it “moon”
But sometimes it’s a pale pink pearl
And gold in months of harvest, too


The sunsets made of rubies red
The Jeweler pours on molten gold
And hangs out clouds of amethysts
As He has done for years untold


When rain falls in the sun’s warm light
I think it’s really diamond stones
They tumble down from up above
From that vast trove the Jeweler owns


And flakes of icy crystal fall
In winter months (we call it snow)
From selfsame clouds whence silver wire
Twists down to strike the ground below


If you lived out on sprawling plains
‘Midst amber waves, the way I do,
You wouldn’t doubt that sapphire is
The stuff that makes the skies so blue


The heavens shine so brightly there
The Jeweler truly knows his art
The emerald streaks in rainbow curves
Are gifts from Him to charm our hearts


~ © Andrea Grace