JUNE

   Now
The world laughs with life.
Great red-stalked rhubarb devouring sun,
Elegant irises, raising their fleurs-de-lis
   Like flags against the sky,
And buttercups in long grass,
   Waving in the sweet wind
   A song of unending joy.
These, and every mosquito at dusk,
Every sparrow stretching its gaping mouth
   From its sheltered nest,
Every frog and fish and barnyard cat,
Every boy running in a clovered field,
Every weary heart smiling
   At some remembered June morning—
All rise,
All rise as new creation,
This universe born again and again
   And again,
All rise from that well, that heart, that yearning,
    (Father, Son, and Spirit)
That utter, truest mystery,
That stirring of Love’s love
Beyond and in all things.
   Holy, holy, holy  . . .

--Timothy Haut