The Wonderer

By Robert W. Service

I wish that I could understand
The moving marvel of my hand;
I watch my fingers turn and twist,
The supple bending of my wrist,
The dainty touch of finger tip,
The steel intensity of grip;
A tool of exquisite design,
With pride I think: "It's mine! It's mine!"

Then there's the wonder of my eyes,
Where hills and houses, seas and skies
In waves of light converge and pass,
And print themselves as on a glass.
Line, form and color live in me;
I am the beauty that I see;
Ah! I could write a book of size
About the wonder of my eyes.

What of the wonder of my heart,
That plays so faithfully its part?
I hear it running sound and sweet;
It does not seem to miss a beat;
Between the cradle and the grave
It never falters, staunch and brave.
Alas! I wish I had the art
To tell the wonder of my heart.

Then, oh! but how can I explain
The wondrous wonder of my brain?
That marvelous machine that brings
All consciousness of wonderings;
That lets me from myself leap out
And watch my body walk about;
It's hopeless--all my words are vain
To tell the wonder of my brain.

But do not think, O patient friend,
Who reads these stanzas to the end,
That I myself would glorify...
You're just as wonderful as I,
And all Creation is our view
Is quite as marvelous as you.
Come, let us on the sea-shore stand

And wonder at a grain of sand;
And then into the meadow pass
And marvel at a blade of grass;
Or cast our vision high and far
And thrill with wonder at a star;
A host of star--night's holy tent
Huge glittering with wonderment.

If wonder is in great and small,
Then what of Him who made it all?
In heart and brain and heart and limb
Let's see the wondrous work of Him.
In house and hill and sward and sea,
In bird and beast and flower and tree,
In everything from sun to sod,
The wonder and the awe of God.

Were every man on earth to become atheist, it could not affect God in any way. He is what he is in himself without regard to any other. To believe him adds nothing to his perfections; to doubt him takes nothing away.

--A. W. Tozer (1897-1963)

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