So much like a young woman in love for the first time,
picking the petals from a daisy in wonder,
so shall our spirits be discovered in whispers,
tentatively waiting and hoping and sighing.
So very fragile like the first wildrose of the morning,
drinking with laughter the teasing of dew,
so may our spirits breathe life as if newborns,
tenderly opening and blooming and shining.
And so like the first crossing of a field deep in sunflowers,
caressing burnt faces that seek only lovelight,
so will our spirits encounter the fullness of God,
curiously touching and mingling and praising.
