The Gathering of the Seas
A Poem Inspired by Genesis 1:9-10
Before the mountains lifted high,
Before the eagle sought the sky,
Before the cedar crowned the hill,
Or rivers learned their winding will,
The earth lay hidden, deep and dim,
A silent thought belonging Him.
The ancient waters veiled the ground,
No meadow spread, no fruitful mound;
The restless floods in darkness rolled,
Obedient still to counsel old,
Awaiting but the sovereign voice
That bids creation now rejoice.
Then through the vast and boundless deep
The Lord awoke the waiting sleep.
No struggle marked His holy reign,
No labor born of sweat or pain;
He spoke, and all the waves obeyed
The royal word His wisdom made.
“Let waters gather!” heaven heard,
And oceans trembled at His word.
Like servants hastening to their King,
The mighty floods came wandering,
Forsaking every scattered place
To seek the limits of His grace.
The valleys opened wide and low,
The hidden depths began to show,
The rivers carved their newborn ways,
Reflecting heaven’s earliest rays;
While seas assembled, calm and broad,
To magnify the hand of God.
Then from beneath the watery veil
The earth arose serene and pale,
As though long buried in the night,
Now clothed anew in dawning light.
The hills ascended one by one,
To greet the newly fashioned sun.
The plains stretched out with patient face,
Prepared to bear life’s countless race.
The cliffs stood firm in solemn line,
Like altars shaped by hands divine,
While deserts yet unborn concealed
The treasures future years revealed.
No mortal hand had marked the shore,
No compass traced the ocean floor;
Yet every wave and every strand
Was measured by the Master’s hand.
The deepest trench, the highest crest,
Were numbered by His wise behest.
The waters knew where they should stay,
Nor dared to cross His sovereign way.
Their roaring strength He gently bound
Within the borders He had found.
The mighty sea, though fierce and wild,
Became before its Maker mild.
The newborn earth in silence stood,
Awaiting yet the coming good.
Its fields were bare, its forests none,
Its harvest hidden and undone,
Yet every stone and every plain
Already sang His holy name.
For order blossomed where had been
The dark confusion born unseen.
The shapeless waste received its frame,
Creation answered to His name;
And every boundary He designed
Reflected wisdom unconfined.
The waves became a silver choir,
The mountains altars crowned with fire,
The valleys stretched in humble grace,
Prepared for every future race;
The earth itself became a scroll
Proclaiming God controls the whole.
What king has spoken seas to rest?
What hand has shaped the eagle’s nest?
What artist paints with shore and sky
The colors mortal eyes descry?
Who teaches rivers where to run
Or bids the moon reflect the sun?
The answer echoes still today
Where tides pursue their endless way.
The cliffs may crumble into sand,
Yet still they serve His sure command.
The oceans thunder at His throne,
Declaring all the world His own.
The hearts of men, like waters deep,
Can wander far and restless keep;
Yet He who gathered seas below
Can bid the streams of mercy flow.
He calls the scattered soul to stand
Upon the rock of His own hand.
The barren places bloom at last
When chaos yields its troubled past.
The wilderness becomes a field,
And hidden hopes their harvest yield;
For where His sovereign word is heard,
Creation answers to its Lord.
So let the waves forever sing,
And every mountain praise its King.
Let every shore and every sea
Declare His endless majesty.
The earth is His, the heavens above,
The work of wisdom, power, and love.
And when the final dawn shall rise,
Renewing earth and sea and skies,
The voice that gathered waters then
Will call all things to life again.
The land and sea shall gladly prove
The everlasting God is love.