God's creation

It seems no work of man's creative hand,

By labor wrought by calloused hands, and

Fancied plans and whimsy, but from the rock. Not the virgin- white like old Doric shirine where est Athena and Aphrodite held their rites. Not saintly burgundy and blue like the madame of all saints But you fane your interest. The hues of youth upon a frown and brow of woe. And Greek blue with amethyst anemones dangling off the shore and pebble like stones. You come to me. Whispering to me tenderly. That nothing matches the creations of man's hand from centuries before. And nothing matches the creations of God and Jesus knocking on the door of lonely hearts the wisdom their heart sought after and the teachings that sparked the fire in the heart was a wonderful place to start. And end.

And in the end. If the creation has virtue it will stand the test of time. But nonetheless all that will matter is what you posses inside. You can create by your feeble hands. But God created the finger tip and your back side. God created everything and even amethyst jewel you treasure more than the anemone that you throw at the waste side.