Angels Among Azaleas

May, and among the miles of leafing,
blossoms storm out of the darkness—
windflowers and moccasin flowers. The bees
dive into them and I too, to gather
their spiritual honey. Mute and meek, yet theirs
is the deepest certainty that this existence too—
this sense of well-being, the flourishing
of the physical body—rides
near the hub of the miracle that everything
is a part of, is as good
as a poem or a prayer, can also make
luminous any dark place on earth.

~Mary Oliver

My sister gifted me a Mary Oliver book on my birthday this year,

and while the Bonaventure azaleas bloom in March,

this poem felt fitting for the literal and spiritual season.