Lilies–as tall as ourselves and more lovely,
and full of fragrance, and long orange tongues,
and those playthings the bees–stood in

a neighbor’s yard, a thick, ramping
hedge of them.  You could not help but see
that to be beautiful is also to be simple

and brief; is to rise up and be glorious, and then vanish;
is to be silent but as though a song was in you only it
hasn’t yet been heard…

~Excerpt from the poem, The Book, by Mary Oliver

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. ~Psalm 23:1  ✝