The
Lily
Night after
night
darkness
enters the face
of the lily
darkness
enters the face
of the lily
which, lightly,
closes its five walls
around itself,
and its purse
closes its five walls
around itself,
and its purse
of honey,
and its fragrance,
and is content
to stand there
and its fragrance,
and is content
to stand there
in the garden,
not quite sleeping,
and, maybe,
saying in lily language
not quite sleeping,
and, maybe,
saying in lily language
some small words
we can’t hear
even when there is no wind
anywhere,
we can’t hear
even when there is no wind
anywhere,
its lips
are so secret,
its tongue
is so hidden –
are so secret,
its tongue
is so hidden –
or, maybe,
it says nothing at all
but just stands there
with the patience
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
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?
as the lily absolutely knew it would,
which is itself, isn’t it,
the perfect prayer?
~ Mary Oliver
~
(Why I Wake Early,
2004)
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