Other Things
The sky was bright blue,
Bursting with the sunlight,
But I continued on my way,
Concerned with other things.
The sky threatened rain;
I walked on, undaunted,
Hurried by the end before me,
Thinking of other things.
The sky wept tears,
Thundering over my negligence,
But I paid no attention,
Worrying about other things.
As you hurry on your way,
Stop a moment to see the sky;
I have too often neglected it
In my fretting about other things.
For When the Sun is Bright
Sing your praise unto the Lord,
sing of the joy of Him;
among His people He abides,
between the cherubim.
Play, O lambs upon the hills,
leap with solemn play,
upon the mountains of the Lord
in light of God's own day.
Holy, Holy is the Lord,
Holy is His light;
tabernacled here with us,
He saves us in the night.
Glory is a heavy thing;
it presses down with love.
Raise your voice and gladly sing
the praise of God above.
