Stepping through the door
I am assailed by perfume
Wild geraniums.
I ease these flowers
Out of the patio bed
For they cover sage.
They cover flowers-
Blue geranium and saxifrage
Rosemary sprawls now
Lavender’s nearby.
Now inside I hear singing.
Bird by the windows.
A robin came in,
Looking for my old man
I said,he’s not here.
Embodying soul
Sacramental life in scents
Flowers are themselves.
How I’d like to lie
In the poppy-filled meadows
With my beloved.
Or splash through the ford
Near the open air display
Work of Henry Moore.
The topology
Of his sculptures moves my heart
Vast,holy, peaceful.
Massive like unto God
They transform the soul and body
Into one being.
Then we are all one
With the sloping green meadows
And the wind bent trees.
Most of all,I know
Wildflowers are God’s darlings.
How he dwells in them.
Low,modest beauties
On the verge of the main road
See ,even here, smiles.
To lose one’s own self
To become a wild-flower
Grace will sanctify.
First, grow an ego
Then lose it in these green woods
Unselfconscious Eve.
How my heart sings 