Truth be told, Lord,
just after Mass on Easter Sunday
I scooped a lily from the sanctuary
and brought it home.
I put that lily on the table
near the stairs up to my rooms.
I pass by there many times a day
and though I often miss the blossoms,
their soft, sweet fragrance never fails
to stop me in my tracks...
That one lily offers me
the scent of springtime,
the essence of Easter peace,
the perfume of Paschal joy,
a whiff of the wonder that even in these days
you rise, Lord, you rise
and lift me up to faith refreshed,
hope restored
and love beyond all telling...
Like brassy trumpet bells
my lily's blooms sound a descant
high above the ballad of my fears,
beyond the anthems of my worries...
You call me to your song, Lord,
the song of joyful peace,
made real and present now,
no need to wait,
for you have risen as you said,
you have risen as you promised,
you have risen in my heart
and in my soul...
Give me now and then, Lord,
a whiff of that sweet aroma,
that fine fragrance rising like incense,
reminding me that you have risen
and I have every reason to hope
and every reason to trust
that all shall be well,
that all manner of things shall be well...
Amen.
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