the language of creation

i first came across the following poem while reading an article by Eugene Peterson last year. it initially caught my attention, but i soon forgot about it until a couple months ago when i came across it again. it has been stuck in my mind ever since. i'm not poetic enough to grasp the entire depth of it, but i just love the resounding theme of all of creation employed to speak 'Christ'... because as man we are created in the image of God... the Imago Dei... Christ playing in ten thousand places.

to me this is beautiful.

Untitled
by Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–89)

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies dráw fláme;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell's
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves - goes itself; myself it speak and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came.

Í say móre: the just man justices;
Kéeps grace: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is -
Chríst - for Christ play in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men's faces.