Grace

Grace
Whenever I think of you I wonder,
Wherever I look and see, I think,
Who made the gentle breeze?
And the sound of thunder,
A sheet and shimmer of light,
On the surface of the lake,
Like the glow of joy,
In the gentle moonlit night,
I can think no further,
Who could paint?
This canvas so large,
The one and only,
The master of all,
Have seen many a summer bloom,
All joy, happiness at times gloom,
No loss or gain,
At times even bane,
But move on must you,
For seasons will come,
And seasons will go,
And sadness will too,
Everyday when I open my eyes,
When the dawn I welcome a new,
I thank the Almighty for another day,
And lots of gifts it brings too,
Do you ever you wonder?
How we cry and moan,
No this or that or another,
How forgetful can we be,
We take bounty, all good we greet,
Cry we must not for shoes,
Bemoan and miss to think,
There are people who have no feet.