considering the lilies

the angel does not his own image praise
nor does the bloom amid green-bladed grass
nor yet the ephemeral frost, the haze
hanging heavy over still water’s glass
so why do i, nostril-creature that i be
whose lungs are filled with breath beyond my power to create
why do i my own self so much seek to see
and thereby miss the gaze of Love Incarnate?
sister lily, brother raven, teach me to adore
Him Who made us all, and keeps us evermore