The True Artist

He is a painter,
Splashing colors cross the sky,
Creating something for the human eye,
A plan in mind, for us He’d die.

He is a Sculptor.
He cast into being the fiery sun,
Gave us moon and stars and fun,
but even then He wasn’t done.

He is a carver.
He drew the land out of the sea,
Formed the trees to live and be
And serve His Son on Calvary.

He is a crafter.
In a day He gave us beasts,
No cutting, pasting, snipping feats,
He even gave them heartbeats.

He is an artist.
Last of all He took some dust
And labored far for only us,
Painted, chiseled, carved away
And then He rested the seventh day.