you are ladybirds and the smell of a garden
You should expect grace,
that which makes life more than
manageable, but you look elsewhere,
wanting some delight other
than that.
Your conscious being,
with what you’ve been given,
should be like a beautifully laid-out park
with wildflowers and cultivated wonders,
a swift stream with places to sit
and rest beside it.
When a grieving person
sees you, he or see should recognize a
refuge, refreshment, a generous house where
one need not bring bread and cheese.
There will be plenty.