Grace and Peace to you.
having enough of words,
lays aside her prayerbook
and gazes at the lily,
full of grace,
imagines God’s delight at its creation,
the praying hands of its petals
beckoning down into its gentle infinity,
little flecks of pollen trembling
with her heartbeat,
its tender fragrance seeping
through all the world’s meanness,
held in a slant of light,
white, against the scumbled walls,
until her gaze becomes angelic
and she knows.