How strong and mighty its blades stood tall;
But, each one now sadly bends down low, as if to fall.
What once proudly rose to heaven in glory and might;
Slumbers in weakness and humility as senescence takes over youth’s immortal flight.
Its stalks are broken, now sullen, and unseemly effaced;
What once held fast has now, to the earth, been inevitably placed.
Many a windsong sung through its thicket did resplendently blow;
Many an ambered grain from sunsets did softly glow.
But now, no bird shall sit atop to glean;
For now, it has fallen to the ground, scarcely to be seen.
Blades of grass serve as a reminder to us each in their own way;
Creation’s ever-teaching that strength, might, intelligence, and more will at some point give way.
A lesson from creation serves listening ears with a profound pedagogical aid;
Each stand of grass and the goodliness of the flower-filled fields in time shall fade.
Indeed, no aspect of creation, as much as they might desire, endures to the end;
Every man’s power assuredly sinks under the weight of His blowing wind.
Therefore, we must not vainly strive after things that fall;
Our hearts must instead ever meditate on the Lord of all.
From His mouth comes the very Words of life;
Given to men, in the face of cruel death, and amidst life’s perpetual strife.
His Word pierces the darkness and clears all our afflicting haze;
Upon His Word alone, we must solidly fix our gaze.
All flesh is grass; it shall wither and die;
All men are like grass; in an earthen grave, one day shall lie.
So, we look out beyond, past the horizon of things;
We fix our eyes on Him, from whom our eternity springs.
One day, like the grass, we will wither and fall;
Until then, we declare our God is the Lord of creation, the majestic, holy God, the Lord of all.
Yes, and amen, He is clothed in matchless praise;
By His Word, from the ground, all men He will raise.
Until then, we look up and around, and see His glory and care;
We walk in His ways, shod in gospel shoes, His brandmarks boldly bear.
Our journey, though hard, and many a trial may meet;
Yet, resting in His way, a burden undoubtedly sweet.
O, for His presence to come and fill us with His knowledge of love;
O, for ten thousand tongues to sing and be lifted high upon the wings of a dove.
Glory to the King, just and true are His ways;
Splendor and majesty, we sing songs of endless praise.
Yes, we sing, we lift high our songs;
Together, roundabout, we magnify Him in numberless throngs.
A song of creation, we gather and proclaim;
We walk in obedience to honor Him and lift high His name.
Glory and amen.
“The voice said, Cry. And he said, What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field: The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: because the spirit of the Lord bloweth upon it: surely the people is grass. The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand for ever.”
Isaiah 40:6-8 (KJV)
— June 25, 2026