The Lily

July 19, 2007 · by Christine

Night after night
darkness
enters the face
of the lily
which, lightly,
closes its five walls
around itself,
and its purse
of honey,
and its fragrance,
and is content
to stand there
in the garden,
not quite sleeping,
and, maybe,
saying in lily language
some small words
we can’t hear
even when there is no wind
anywhere,
its lips
are so secret,
its tongue
is so hidden –
or, maybe,
it says nothing at all
but just stands there
with the patience
of vegetables
and saints
until the whole earth has turned around
and the silver moon
becomes the golden sun –
as the lily absolutely knew it would,
which is itself, isn’t it,
the perfect prayer?

-Mary Oliver

-Christine Valters Paintner @ Abbey of the Arts

(photos of avalanche lilies in bloom in the alpine meadows at Mount Rainier from an impromptu and most delightful visit the last couple of days)

Posted in Photos, Poetry, Nature and Creativity |