The Maker manufactured every part,
created every atom and arrayed
us with a query in each human heart:
What will you with the miracles I’ve made?
For it is ours to recognize and use,
appreciate, assimilate and grade.
We cannot make, but we’re allowed to choose
how we employ the things the Maker made.

The purple bloom that drapes the laurel tree,
the robin that attacks our window pane,
the dragonflies, were none designed by me
but I can make them meet in this refrain.
That much of making is in my command:
arrangement with an aim to understand.