Three Lilies
Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in
the morning. Psalm 30
Before dawn, under a thin moon disappearing
east, the planet Mercury, the messenger
and healer, came up vanishingly
into the blue beyond the garden where
three lilies at the bottom of the yard
arrayed white trumpets on iron stalks
under a slow, slow lightning from the sun.
I stood on a rotten step myself,
and smelled them from a hundred feet away.
This poem by Brooks Haxton was the one sent yesterday by Knopf which sends a poem a day during National Poetry Week to those who have signed up to receive them -- as I did three years ago. I love having poem arrive every morning. Many are new to me, many of the poets as well are ones I don't know. I believe they have sent this poem on a previous Easter. Although I don't celebrate Easter the poem, without even mentioning the day or celebration is perfect.
