Through all this talk of work and lilies
I must stay silent, for I do not know
The virtue of a laborious day
I've no farm to tend; I know no true strife
Famine has never dwelled on my doorstep
Sorrow has no belonging in my heart
And, what's more, I know nothing of flowers
Springing from the earth in a kaleidoscopic
Array of colors, shapes, and sizes
Brilliant in their collective chaos
Stirring and serene at the same time
I can make no assimilation
Between beautiful blooms and a hard day's work
For I am unfamiliar with either