Who Watches Over Me?


Most of the time,
they don’t seem to notice
that I’m sitting there,
in my car, or standing there,
on the road above,
taking their pictures.

Once I caught a reflection
of my car in an alligator’s eye.

But every so often,
just when I think I’m invisible,
a bird, a tiny Green Heron,
perched on a reed,



or a Sandhill Crane, still dozing
in her nest, but ever present to threat,
will turn and look at me,
and, I believe, see me.



Lord, I know You watch us,
but I wonder how often You beg
us to turn and see You.

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