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When Poets Pray

(Wisdom from other Writers)

The Lily  By Mary Oliver

The Lily By Mary Oliver

Night after night


enters the face

of the lily

which, lightly,

closes its five walls

around itself,

and its purse

of honey,

and its fragrance,

and is content

to stand there

in the garden,

not quite sleeping,

and, maybe,

saying in lily language

some small words

we can’t hear

even when there is no wind


its lips

are so secret,

its tongue

is so hidden –

or, maybe,

it says nothing at all

but just stands there

with the patience

of vegetables

and saints

until the whole earth has turned around

and the silver moon

becomes the golden sun –

as the lily absolutely knew it would,

which is itself, isn’t it,

the perfect prayer?

Admit Something by Hafiz

Admit Something by Hafiz