Nothing is more beautiful
Than the work of the Master Artist
He gouges the soft earth to form the rivers
He cups His hands to mold the mountains and scoop the valleys
With His fingers, He depresses craters
He sprinkles trees and grass on the ground like sugar and the stars like dust
He paints the landscape with wispy clouds and dark storms
He flashes his palette with the rainbow
He draws out the designs of plants and animals
He paints the flowers with awesome colors
With His tools, He builds living machines
He gives all creatures
Earth, plant, animal, humans the wisdom to delight in his art
How long has the Master Artist been sculpting, painting, drawing, creating?
No on dares measure
Who can match His art?
Who can outwit His talent?
Who can undermine His creativity?
No one dares to try
Just as the Supreme Artist creates us, so we create.
Does a creation deny its creator?
Does a statue deny its sculptor?
Does a gardener plant his seed and then walk away?
The Artist is too big to be seen
Too wise to comprehend
But who of artists when calling their art good does not love it with all they have?