Within my strong towers
I look at the flowers,
So many — each different — so brilliantly bright.
They grow all around me,
Completely surround me
With heavenly beauty and earthly delight.
While lost in my wonder
I hear distant thunder
And watch as the ebony clouds fill the sky.
Then closing my windows
I feel how the wind blows
And see how the willowy flowers comply.
Inside fires warm me
As evening brings stormy
Tempestuous rains casting fear into men.
I walk through the hallways,
Retire as always
But long for the morrow and daylight again.
Outside of my towers
I stand with the flowers,
So many — each different — so brightly ablaze.
I walk through my garden
As earth starts to harden;
The morning sun rising to burn off the haze.
The night rains have ended,
The sun now attended
A world full of color in splendid array.
And I am beholding
The gentle unfolding
Of blossoms embracing the warmth of the day.
In true celebration
They silently seem for the heavens to reach —
To offer sweet nectar
To God, their Protector,
Creator and Artist and Sculptor of each.