The Other Person

You decorated the world,
From the depths of the sea, to the heavens.

The wind and it’s voice, the trees and their dance
The waves and their limits, crashing over everything, as fiercely as your love
The sun, the moon, the majesty of all creation
All that speak so beautifully of the creator
It’s not man, but you who created the symphony of the earth
The sopranos and their wings
The Mezzos and their waves
It is not man but you who turned the earth into one big canvas
The flowers and their fragrance
The butterflies and their radiance

Lord, forgive me if I’m wrong,
But I don’t think you did so only for our pleasure.
I believe that you did it, so we could see you
So we could be reminded whenever we are amnesiac
So we could know you’re there,
in the warmth of the sun
The joy of the butterflies
The lilies that carefully map out the path to you, everywhere, everyday, everybeing

It all screams YOU!
And I’d be at my wits end if I failed to join in the chorus
I’d be at my death’s door if I let a stone bear my voice.
You’re pleased in my pleasure, and my pleasure is in making you pleased.
Sometimes I think we battle for who would win the race of making each other happy, and I’m happy to say that you’ve beat me a thousand to none, but I’m also happy to know that the only thing you desire is the only thing that I can render

My Hallelujah!