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This title is printed to order. This book may have been self-published. If so, we cannot guarantee the quality of the content. In the main most books will have gone through the editing process however some may not. We therefore suggest that you be aware of this before ordering this book. If in doubt check either the author or publisher’s details as we are unable to accept any returns unless they are faulty. Please contact us if you have any questions.
"Ode to the Divine" Thank you, God, for skies that weep, For sunsets painting whispers on the horizon. In this cosmic dance, where stars keep secrets, We find our place-a fleeting note in eternity. Thank you for the symphony of seasons: Spring's tender buds, summer's fiery blaze, Autumn's golden sigh, and winter's hush. Each a verse in the hymn of existence. You are the brush stroke on the canvas of dawn, The quill that writes constellations in ink of stardust. In every dew-kissed petal, every mountain's silhouette, We glimpse your artistry-the divine signature. Thank you for the quiet moments-sacred pauses- When we hear the universe breathe. In the rustle of leaves, the heartbeat of oceans, We find communion with the ineffable. And when our souls ache, when shadows lengthen, You are the solace-the whispered promise. In gratitude, we lift our eyes to the night sky, And say, "Thank you, God, for this fragile, wondrous life." Amen.
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This title is printed to order. This book may have been self-published. If so, we cannot guarantee the quality of the content. In the main most books will have gone through the editing process however some may not. We therefore suggest that you be aware of this before ordering this book. If in doubt check either the author or publisher’s details as we are unable to accept any returns unless they are faulty. Please contact us if you have any questions.
"Ode to the Divine" Thank you, God, for skies that weep, For sunsets painting whispers on the horizon. In this cosmic dance, where stars keep secrets, We find our place-a fleeting note in eternity. Thank you for the symphony of seasons: Spring's tender buds, summer's fiery blaze, Autumn's golden sigh, and winter's hush. Each a verse in the hymn of existence. You are the brush stroke on the canvas of dawn, The quill that writes constellations in ink of stardust. In every dew-kissed petal, every mountain's silhouette, We glimpse your artistry-the divine signature. Thank you for the quiet moments-sacred pauses- When we hear the universe breathe. In the rustle of leaves, the heartbeat of oceans, We find communion with the ineffable. And when our souls ache, when shadows lengthen, You are the solace-the whispered promise. In gratitude, we lift our eyes to the night sky, And say, "Thank you, God, for this fragile, wondrous life." Amen.