the effigy

God, i know you're real;
i feel the substance of such beliefs
in the myriad of subjected creatures
which appear to possess an interest in my form.
the single discovery of the complexity in the human eye
(and/or the animal's) is the fine,
unfaltered artwork of the True Artist,
Who gave the earthen artists their proficiency
and their brush,
and Whose art super-exceeds that of any
which mankind has dreamt of.
the brush stroke nature of the cirrus clouds
and the clay model texture of ocean waves
(as well as the infinite collection of painted scenery,
sculpted mountain sides, perfumed beaches
and sheer intelligent designs)
uplifts a praise to the heavens,
in which Your omniscience reigns.
oh but God, we feel so insignificant in Your cast gaze,
yet You insist upon the parallel...
we are Your highest earthly creation,
we are Your servants of choice ("of the Most High God")
we are the image of the Godhead;
the image of You, Lord, Father, Redeemer;
we are formed in the effigy, in the likeness, of You, Abba.