Mighty Works

The mountains are His handiwork,

The stars ranged through the sky.
Yet, so is the warm summer breeze
The fragile butterfly.
 
He can control the mighty winds,
Or shield the baby bird.
He is the songs the angels sing,
The silent thought unheard.
 
It isn’t that His works are grand,
Or often very small,
It isn’t the works, in themselves,
It’s that He made them all.
 
He formed them with a single thought,
The mighty and the frail,
And all the great deeds of mankind,
Beside His works, shall pale.
 
Psalm 104:24
How many are your works, Lord! In wisdom you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures.