I lift up my eyes to the treetops
Through a square viewfinder to a whole ecosystem above.
From where comes my help?
My help comes from the Maker of
The trees
And the blossoms floating by on the breeze
And the bees in the broken bough
And the transparent wings of the dragonfly and the sun whose light on the wings
Catches my eye
Through the high window
of the shower whose water washes over me
And the tears being counted
And the ones who witness and carry and love.
He is where our help comes from.
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Soundtrack below