At whose behest is sunshine led
   to warm my upturned face?
My eyes are closed in evening sleep,
   by what forebearing grace?
The massive oceans mighty tide
   with breakers in its care
The snow that mantles mountain steep
   the gorge—why is it there?

The days, the years in cadence sure
   course through the mist called time.
Why am I sure a towering will
   guides with a hand sublime?
Why do I surely also know
   that all perceive the same,
That everyone in all the earth
   knows of a heavenly frame?

For in the heart of all mankind
   a knowledge firmly lives.
A voice that says “Believe, believe,”
   a mind that knowledge gives,
A soul like ours that waits for us
   beyond the evening shade;
Who in the meantime shows Himself
   through all that He has made.

How do I know His tender love
   upon me is outpoured?
He in His Word presents Himself
   as living, loving Lord,
Who in creation shows His power
   and on the cross His love,
So we can step through nature’s veil
   with Him to dwell above.

Weep then for those who know Him not,
   who by their choice are blind,
Whom caring nature’s open door
   they cannot, will not find.
Rejoice with those who in a rose
   their great creator see,
Who finding Him who made the rose
   are blest eternally.

—Dave Breese