Here on earth,
The Solar sphere,
The galaxy: Milky Way.
Immortal maker,
A fresh dawn has begun; a new voice has emerged. My pen has taken a
fresh shift on a blank sheet. As the previous letter, so shall this one ascend. On the previous, I reported several
disgusting events in the realm of men, but here, I hope to place my praise. I
will worship you with audible sounds and visible letters. The echo of my voice
shall transcend into the ends of endless space. The length of letters and the
loudness of voices, I know, cannot describe your entirety. All the praises of men,
in tongues and in heavy volumes—put together—can describe your goodness, but a
little. All these adorations sent to your throne by men of all ages and races,
are far from being enough.
*
Though mortal I am, and on earth I reside; even with this tattered
flesh, I will lift my imperfect soul to your perfect throne. I have already
made your name the theme of my life.
*
Your muttered whisper surpasses the bang of supernovas; your sudden
thought is deeper than our deepest mental reflections. Your eyes closed, sees
the farthest stars in the cosmos. The terrible thunder, the amazing blink of
lightening, the dreadful earthquakes, the violent storms, the birth and death
of giant stars… are like child’s play in your hands. The twinkling stars and
the revolving spheres that populate the universe, are but wonders of your
hands—a vivid depiction of divine wisdom.
* In
ageless books I have read your flawless wonders. What you did, you still do;
what you are doing, will forever be done. May my psalm be stamped on the
invisible walls of the visible world. May its beauty never be dodged by
unsteady eyes, or wrecked by busy minds. These words will sink deep into the
uttermost chambers of hearts.
* My
knee is bent, my head heads to the ground; my breath is held, my goggling eyes
have coiled to their sockets, and my mind has stopped its work of thought. My
blood withholds its gush, and my restless cells have stood still to glorify
you. All that makes up my entirety are
set to adore you, the creator of all mortals…maker of all immortals.
*
From your loins, time was born; by your breath, eternity emerged, and by
your strength, matter emerged. All that ‘was’, all that ‘is’, and all that
‘will ever be’, are yours and yours alone. Your world baffles my mind. The
splendor of the high heavens, the beauty of the flourishing flowers, the
grandeur of mighty mountains, and the distinct instincts of insects: they lead
my mind to your incomprehensible greatness.
* The
world below is not less wonderful. The diplomatic affairs of the races, the
noble craft of man, the amazing sciences and arts, the ample sand
in the deserts, the large mats of rivers, the vim of winds, and the sweet
stillness of the springs—they stir within men such reverence that words cannot
describe. These are like books, for I am reading them; they are like songs, for
the melody is grand.
* The
mystery of your might is too deep an ocean to fathom. From my day of birth to
this present day, your nature I have reflected upon; my mind as stored up
blossoming images; my imagination has grown wild and my reason has flown high.
In all these, the truth is clear: my mortal mind can fathom your immortal life,
but a fragment.
*
Your strength and name are clearly printed in nature, in the heavy
comets, the globular spheres and glorious nebulae. These rare realities reel me
into adoration and adulation. In the world are wonders, but in my life are
greater wonders. My day makes each new pace by your strength; yes! You send the
fuel by which my wonderful wheels are made to wallow.
* My
spirit is spirited, and my life, made alive. My tongue is filled with words. My
hand shall not deny my heart its desire. Give me more blank tablets to write
upon, for as long as life remains, words shall be inscribed on them. My loyalty
will always be displayed.
Your humble creation,
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