The Maker (a poem)

A long time ago the prophet Jeremiah said, “Ah, Sovereign Lord, you have made the heavens and the earth by your great power and outstretched arm. Nothing is too hard for you.” I’m not a prophet, but today I have a poem for you on the same theme:

The Maker

He stretched out the heavens
And lit up the stars
He flung out the Milky Way’s
Spiralling arms
And will we imagine
His own arms are weak?
Or fear there’s an enemy
He can’t defeat?
The Maker of rocks is
More firm and secure
Than Everest’s foundations
More perfectly pure
Than water in Eden
More faithful and sure
Than sunrise and twilight
And he will endure
Past all of the ancient
Immovable hills
The hills he abundantly
Graciously fills
With life—in all of its
Wild variety
Antlers and feathers
And berries and trees—
And will we belittle
The Maker of these?
Or think the inventor
Of eyes doesn’t see?
Or somehow,
Ridiculously,
Disbelieve
That what he has promised
Is what he’ll achieve