I lift my eyes to the mountain
You can’t help it really
everywhere you lift your eyes in Southern California
there’s a mountain
reminding us the difference between
the stuff we made, and the stuff the earth shook
out of its core for us to look at.
I tried lifting my head to a skyscraper once
and a mountain laughed. Laughed with a voice
that could only come from a mountain.
Can you imagine the songs of the mountains?
They are the Barry Whites of the Earth
with voices as deep as they are tall.
They make the oceans sound
like show choirs.
where does my help come from?
I’d like to answer that for you
but I just don’t know. I’d like you to tell me.
Where do you get your help?
I’d like to go there and get on the list.
I don’t mind waiting, I’m just tired from the searching.
I don’t think my help comes from the mountain
but maybe the mountain knows more
than it’s letting on. Maybe we should all join hands
at the mountain and call it an intervention.
Maybe we already did that….Sinai…
Hello my name is the Jewish People and
I could use a little guidance.
Sound familiar?
my help comes from the maker of heaven and earth
It’s one thing to be in awe of the mountain
and a whole other to acknowledge something made it.
Can you imagine the labor required to make a mountain?
That’s a whole lot of guys from outside Home Depot.
Or, if you pay attention to our tradition, just One.
My help comes from the One who made the mountain.
That’s who I lift my eyes to.