Monday, April 8, 2013

Morning Melodies

One of the best things about living in the country is mornings. Long before human busyness sounds penetrate over the hills, nature can be heard singing and pecking and crunching.




While I was photographing the Chipping Sparrows that found my Finch feeder (notice the Finches haven't found it yet) I heard a rather distinctive rustling sound. I turned my camera on Mr Squirrel and caught him foraging for pecans. Once he realized I was watching him, he scampered up into the Pecan Tree to munch on his breakfast.



Personally, I think the birds and crickets and frogs and all other noisy creatures are thanking their Creator for another day of provisions! 

After all...


This is My Father's World
~Maltbie D Babcock, 1901

This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears
All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world: I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas;
His hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father’s world, the birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white, declare their Maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world: He shines in all that’s fair;
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass;
He speaks to me everywhere.

This is my Father’s world. O let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world: the battle is not done:
Jesus Who died shall be satisfied,
And earth and Heav’n be one.

This is my Father’s world, dreaming, I see His face.
I ope my eyes, and in glad surprise cry, “The Lord is in this place.”
This is my Father’s world, from the shining courts above,
The Beloved One, His Only Son,
Came—a pledge of deathless love.

This is my Father’s world, should my heart be ever sad?
The lord is King—let the heavens ring. God reigns—let the earth be glad.
This is my Father’s world. Now closer to Heaven bound,
For dear to God is the earth Christ trod.
No place but is holy ground.

This is my Father’s world. I walk a desert lone.
In a bush ablaze to my wondering gaze God makes His glory known.
This is my Father’s world, a wanderer I may roam
Whate’er my lot, it matters not,
My heart is still at home.


Wishing each of you a blessed day in the Lord!

6 comments:

  1. What a wonderful poem for a spring morning!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I love singing hymns and this one is a favorite!

      Delete
  2. Adorei ler o que escreveu com a simplicidade que o faz um excelente escritor.


    Abraço

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks for coming by! Have a great weekend :)

      Delete

I am so delighted that you've taken time to come by and comment. Blessings for a joy-filled day!

1 Corinthians 1:3 ~ Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.