What Am I? ~ A Shakespearean Sonnet

Sometimes when I am left to ponder,

The roll of the clouds, the glow of the moon, the soar of an eagle, the height of the sky, 

I, like a child, can't help but wonder, 

In all of this, what am I? 

The roar of the storm, the ocean wide,

Spirals of rock, evergreens, ethereal flowers and mountain kings, 

A bow of color in the sky, the ebb and flow of the passing tide,

What am I, amidst all of this creation that sings? 

The yawn of a canyon, the crescendo of light, 

Scampering does, skittering leaves, fluttering birds, towering trees,

The dance of stars in a dark blue night,

What am I, amidst all of these? 

Perhaps it is not what I am that I should dwell on, nor on all of this majesty,

But rather, on the hands that made all of this, and me.