Are there words enough,
To describe the works of His hands;
To list and ascribe the honour due Him
From ages past to the very next breath?
It is not a matter of length,
For even in every single breath,
Lies an enigma simply stated, but utterly confounding.
Are there words enough?
Are there sounds enough,
To echo the mysteries strewn across galaxies;
To embody and translate the visceral truths
Woven into the fabrics of space and time.
In an ever expanding universe,
As He stretches the heavens, are there creaks,
Groans or tears, grinds or clanks;
Are there sounds enough?
Oh do pardon me when I’m lost for words;
For I have not learned nearly enough.
Do pardon me when I’m lost for words;
For I have not heard nearly enough.
But I do hunger and thirst for expression;
Whether there be enough words or sounds, or not.