Lilies of my Field

I awake each day to lilies,
check out new blooms,
deadhead
the day old blossoms.

These lilies,
like filings to magnets,
turn to the sun.
They are
of such glorious beauty
they do not
last long.

Each blossom
is a day of my life
that shall not come back,
even so, 
with such poignant beauty,
who cannot not
feel joy?