Little culture makers,
Scurrying down below.
They build and write and draw and sing
And to the skies they crow
Boasting of all their strength and wit
With everyone they know.
Puffed with pride they strut,
Like peacocks all pruned up.
So vain and silly about their work
And giddy as the newborn pup,
Who, so in love with life,
Forgets him who fills his cup.
For up above sits one who laughs
As their boasts increase;
Don’t they know it was He,
Who formed the first masterpiece?
The Great Sculptor and Artist is He,
Without whom their lives would cease.
Yet let us not scorn their art
For there is still beauty to be found
In their works which imitate
The work of Him who’s crowned.
Though they don’t know it yet,
Their art reflect truths profound.
So let us revel in their talent
And admire their creations,
For such are skills He gives,
To cultivate every nation.
Let us remember to appreciate
The gift of Imitation.