Believe in beauty

  “Every summer the lilies rise and open their white hands until they almost cover the black waters of the pond. And I give thanks but it does not seem like adequate thanks, it doesn’t seem festive enough or constant enough, nor does the name of the Lord or the words of thanksgiving come into it often enough Everywhere I go I am treated like royalty, which I am not. I thirst and am given water. My eyes thirst and I am given the white lilies on the black water. My heart sings but the apparatus of singing doesn’t convey…