Flowers sing,

Trees clap,

Mountains dance,

Rivers laugh.

Giant jubilations explode from the hills,

In anticipation of glorious hands making.

Beastly subjects of every type,

Bow to the One who has formed them with exhalations.

Mortals fashioned from soil and clay borrow life and love,

Reflections of the divine,

Lift their hands and offer their souls.

Joyous Praise

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