Note that the stigma (center) of this lustrous flower is a microcosm of the sun itself. Note how the water burbles and gurgles. Note why I have the dew drops drop onto a red flower rather than onto a green leaf: Red best resonates the intensity of the incredible amount of power required to lift countless tons of water skyward world-wide every second of the day and night; so common and everyday as to not seem notable, whereas in reality it is a tremendous, collosal, magnificent, glorious, sensational illustration of God's power, the omnipotence and omniscience of the Eternal, the Ever Existent—before before, then, now, soon, pronto, next, later, any other segmentations of time, and time itself (as we know it) existed.

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The power of the sun evaporates the dew,
transforming it to a vapor, which in turn distilled
to water, impelled by gravity to accrue
as pools, ponds, lagoons, lakes, reservoirs and oceans are filled,
providing moisture to make possible, sustain
and maintain all life on earth, and anon as before,
evaporating it up to the sky above again,
else, earthbound, nevermore to climb high, to rise and to soar....

So, dear Lord, lift up our minds, hearts and souls to thee,
from materialistic leanings, fruitless, useless thoughts forfend,
aspiring to serve always, aiding others selflessly....
as the sun goes down, night falls and new drops of dew descend;
as the sun comes up, morning dawns and softly the dew
in warming air commences gently to ascend,
drawn by solar power, rising high up anew,
empowered by thy Spirit, ever upward to wend.

Unburden us from all earthly worry and care,
lightening the loads we bear in accordance with
thy wondrous comforting consoling words, a prayer:
"Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavily laden,
and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you,
and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart:
and ye shall find rest unto your souls,
for my yoke is easy, and my burden light."

Armor us with visors to shut out from our sight
tantalizing temptations that to wrongs us entice;
a shield to ward off evil in defense of what's right;
a gauntlet thrown down to curb incursions of vice,
a sword to slash evil, thy word's immense might,
as though from frail flesh maladies to excise,
a lasso roping us into worthy impulses and quests,
bound to do thy will; abounding in virtue, whatever the price.

Lyrics: Wendell Hall © 2009

To Stephen Foster's Beautiful Dreamer, so beautiful it makes this page worth viewing for his music alone.