The Praising
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Let the trees praise the blue skies
And the sunlight
Despite the cold wind and fallen snow
Though, they are bare
They are reaching for a G-d unknown
Praising Him like the hands of babes
Wanting to be picked up by their mothers
The stillness is interrupted by dogs
But even this, does not shake them
They are strong; rooted for eons
As they continue to worship the G-d who
Made them
And the calm before the storm is only that
Until they cry in the wilderness
Echoing their fear
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