Cascades of fire surround me,
Emblazoned on the trees.
As summer turns to winter,
All God’s verdure holds its breath
And then, brilliant as the setting sun,
Cries “Holy is the Lord!”
The emerald bounties of the woods
Turn softly, and turning thus,
Reflect the radiance of his throne.
Our God, our God, our God is a consuming fire,
And the whole earth is full of his glory.
I walk in sunlit fields of grace,
Down paths where peace has showered down,
In golden leaves, from Abba’s treetops.
The gulls splash in quiet shallows,
And on the age-old lumber of the docks
A cormorant dries its wings.
The robins—young and full of life,
Fly down to a string of pearled puddles,
And shake their feathers there.
Along the river the eagle watches,
Full fierce and proud in majesty,
While the cold northern waters
Sluice out through river-stones
And meet the bitter sea.
Our God, our God, our God is a consuming fire,
And the whole earth is full of his glory.
Amid these wild wonders walk I:
I the Image,
I the crown,
I the master of creation.
And I am humbled here.
Humbled to have seen the glory of our God
In tree and bird and stream,
And to know that he loves me.
He paints the world in breathless tones
Of wild and violent beauty,
And in this dance of peace and splendor,
He invites me in.
Our God, our God, our God is a consuming fire,
And the whole earth is full of his glory