A poem about faith

WAY UP HIGH IN THE HEAVEN THERE LIVES A MASTER
WITH A HAND OF GOLD. HE HOLDS THE STRINGS OF OUR
HEARTS. HE NEVER GROWS TIRED OR OLD. HE'S A FATHER
WHO LOVES US MORE THEN THE WORLD DOES, FROM UP
IN THE HEAVENS WHERE THE STARS ADORN THE SKY.
(BREATHE)
WAY UP THERE ARE THE STARS THE MOON AND THE SUN
EACH WERE SHAPED FROM THE PALM OF HIS CAPABLE
HAND. MANY A MIRACLE HE DID DO, BUT THE ONLY TIME
HE TRULY FELL IN LOVE IS WHEN HE TOOK A CLUMP OF DIRT
AND CREATED LIFE. FOR THATS WHEN HE KNEW, WHAT A
MIRACLE TRULY WAS.
(BREATHE)
HERE EVERY DAY AND EVERY MOMENT IS COUNTED UPON
SO LETS US NOT WASTE IT ON THE NOISE AND CLANK OF
THE MUNDANE WORLD. BRING YOURSELF TO THE ALTAR
OF HIS MERCY AND ASK HIM FOR THE STRENGTH YOU
NEED TO LIVE A LIFE IN CUMMUNION WITH HIM.
(BREATHE)