This is my Father's world, The birds their carols raise, The morning light, the lily white, Declare their maker's praise This is my Father's world, He shines in all that's fair, In the rustling grass, I hear him pass, He speaks to me everywhere. What can be better after our winter sleep than to hear the bird's song in the morning? Or maybe it is the cheerful daffodil that blooms merrily. Its shoots point straight and true to her maker, in gracious praise, a resplendent symphony of love where many are gathered. My maker shines in all that is fair, however, there is much sadly that is not fair. He loves justice and desires that we walk in peace with others. I hear him speaking in the world and in the faces of those who ache with sadness and loss. He speaks and I try to respond and listen as he tells me to go, to give, even when it hurts. This poem song I've carried with me from childhood. It feeds me, encourages me, reminds me of who God is and how he wants me to listen and notice. Thank you to my teachers from Daily Vacation Bible School. Thank you to my counselors from my beloved Camp Grow.