Consider the lilies of the  field,
the blue banks of camas
opening into acres of sky along the  road.
Would the longing to lie down
and be washed by that beauty
abate  if you knew their usefulness,
how the natives ground their bulbs
for  flour, how the settlers' hogs
uprooted them, grunting in gleeful
oblivion  as the flowers fell?
And you—what of your rushed
and useful life?  Imagine setting it all down—
papers, plans, appointments, everything—
leaving only a note: "Gone
to the fields to be lovely. Be back
when  I'm through with blooming."
Even now, unneeded and uneaten,
the camas  lilies gaze out above the grass
from their tender blue eyes.
Even in sleep  your life will shine.
Make no mistake. Of course
your work will always  matter.
Yet Solomon in all his glory
was not arrayed like one of  these.
Lyn Ungar
(from Blessing the Bread)

4 comments:
Yep, we do. Lovely clarity on this one.
Love this poem!
Thanks Cate!
OMG - "Gone to the fields to be lovely. Be back when I'm through with blooming." Got goosebumps on that one:) If only I could! I would call it the contemplative life :) - which I hunger to live... I do get to live semi this way, so can't complain. :)
That photo, the beauty of it, takes my breath away.
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