Softly
the angels of this hour,
and softly
the journey of this flower
which holds heaven in a seed,
and which comes to us in need
because love lives, because love lives.
Yes, much like this hour,
and much like the kiss
of buds before they bloom,
of dusk before the moon
reminds us to forget
the cruel day that was.
For all of it fades
in this bright hour of love,
in this hour
where my mother art
rewrites the story of my life.
For she is here,
the mother of my heart,
and I am close to Jesus
as he smiled
upon the third day.
So please forgive me, world,
if I get lost in this garden.
Please forgive me
if I pray.