God Must Be a Cowboy

He must sit back and just smile at sunsets; The colors and quiet must give him great joy— As do the sweet sage and morning violets; God must be a cowboy. He breathes life in the wind on the prairie And sustains the green earth with the soft rain; And he grows all the fish in the vast sea; It is an unbroken chain. Oh, you can hear him creak that old saddle As he rounds up the skies and the whole earth range; His eyes are on us and he’s not idle. The only constant is change. Yes, He rides beside us in gold grasses And He watches our bedroll every night; He helps us over all the high passes And teaches us to do right. And meekly we speak of Him by His name As we take great pains to please and not annoy; Knowing when we ride off back where we came: God must be a cowboy.