He spoke to me this morning

in the smell of lilly

and the song of the pipes.

He spoke to me this morning

reminding me to drink from the living waters

of wells that I have known.

 

I confess that I have wandered-

not with tongue or plunging bucket.

But, I have wondered

if the milk white skin

might yield the drink

to answer the poem of thirst.

 

Yet, I stay

near the altar

heavy with words

where the smell of lilly

and the song of the pipes

are pierced with sunlight and colored glass.

And somewhere

hovering within and above it all,

He spoke to me this morning.