It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
Joanne at Egregious twaddle tells us that this poem is "from Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Mary Oliver. This is from her 2006 collection, Thirst, and a big H/T to Julie at Happy Catholic, who posted it some time ago."