There’s music in a raindrop’s pearly frame,
And from the gaunt austerity of snow
Each shining crystal twinkle has a name.
A tree casts wisps of light to laugh below,
While summer’s sun is smiling down each day,
Then letting it in autumn glory glow,
Until its joyous garment slips away.
There’s mirth in bugs and spiders of the grass,
And with the grumpy crab out in the bay.
The south-bound birds are singing as they pass,
And laughter crowns the waves against the coast.
Their song is one that we forget too fast:
Outshining far the sun and starry host,
The little things are where He shines the most.