The Wordless Chorus

The Lagoon Nebula, or M8 | Photograph via Science by Guff

Like fine jewels strewn over midnight velvet,

Star dust scatters across endless galaxies in glittering array,

A welcome committee for the King of Kings.

He comes with the dawn, light flowing

from his being like the graceful folds of a silk gown,

cascading in pools about Him.


Elohim, Eternal One.


The train of his robe fills heaven’s sanctuary,

gilt-edged with stars from a billion exploding galaxies,

their colours dancing and fragmenting

like light beaming through a prism.

In this celestial coronation, brilliant ruby reds –


royal purple,

sapphire blue,

emerald green –

morph in rainbows of glory around him as the heavens sing praise.

Their chorus is wordless, yet deafening;

a love song reverberating through time since the very beginning.



“I look up at your macro-skies, dark and enormous, your handmade sky-jewelry, Moon and stars mounted in their settings. Then I look at my micro-self and wonder, Why do you bother with us? Why take a second look our way?

Yet we’ve so narrowly missed being gods, bright with Eden’s dawn light. You put us in charge of your handcrafted world, repeated to us your Genesis-charge, Made us lords of sheep and cattle, even animals out in the wild, Birds flying and fish swimming, whales singing in the ocean deeps.

GOD, brilliant Lord, your name echoes around the world.”

The Message Translation


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