matthew 6:28

Baby flower on my lap
See how you grow:
You neither labor
Nor spin, yet
No royal robes can rival
Your fresh beauty,
God-clothed --
My little lily of the field.

orange blossom

I woke to walk
the winding path
between the orange trees
before the mist cleared
listening
waiting and looking for my love.

The lavender left its scent
rich and heady on my hands
but only after I crushed it
between my fingers.

The rosemary withheld its
woodsy musk until I broke the
needles from the branch.

But the orange blossom chased me
around the garden circle
courting, wooing, winning
me with gentleness
intoxicating beauty:
Grace.

Between the fragrance and the fruit
In the center I stood
Marveled
Breathed in being the
Beloved.