The heavens tell God’s glory,
and His handiwork sky declares.
Day to day breathes utterance
and night to night pronounces knowledge.
There is no utterance and there no words,
their voice is never heard.
Through all the earth their voice goes out,
to the world’s edge, their words.
For the sun He set up a tent in them –
and he like a groom from his canopy comes,
exults like a warrior running his course.
From the ends of the heavens his going out
And his circuit to their ends,
And nothing can hide from his heat.
Words: Psalm 19:2–7 from The Book of Psalms: a translation with commentary, by Robert Alter
Image: Simonsons Meadow by Robert Epley