And the Trees of the Fields
shall Clap their Hands
I'm sitting here worshipping my God
to whom I belong.
As I look out of the window the trees seem to
sing a song.
A song of praise to my God,
Dancing before you in the breeze.
As I worship you Lord, I feel all creation shows me how.
From the trees to the flowers and the little birds that sing.
They seem to say: "Jesus, you are Lord of everything!"
In the silence of the countryside,
Your awesomeness is revealed.
As my soul drinks in your greatness my spirit is refilled.
You're in everything I see Lord, and everything I feel.
How can anyone deny that you are not for real?
by Diana Wood
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