"Artist"
There is no chaos
If moss can catch falling blooms
Like they were painted."When the Sun Rises behind a Mockernut Hickory in Springtime"
Hope is not forced joy
But light that seeps between leaves
Glowing and growing.
"In Praise of a Bouquet"
Blessed are those who pick flowers,Â
For they share a piece of wonder.Â
Blessed are those who plant bulbs,Â
For they shall live in faithful hope.
Blessed are the tenders of gardens,
For they shall see joy rise in spring.Â
Blessed are the pruners of shrubs,Â
For theirs is a healing art.Â
Blessed are the pullers of weeds,
For in them is enduring courage.
Blessed are the spreaders of mulch,Â
For their grace covers many sins.
Blessed the hands that choose stems,
For they know how beauty feels. Â
Blessed are those who work glass and clay,Â
For they make art to be filled.Â
Blessed are the flower arrangers,
For theirs is ordered abundanceÂ
Set up for all to admire
As a sign of every good gift.