Day lily, day lily,
soft gold along the wild road home;
I braid your light into my hair,
so Mother sees I’m not alone.
Every petal holds a promise
that dinner smoke will rise again;
when evening climbs the quiet hills,
her song will find the place I’ve been.
Day lily, day lily,
keep blooming where the river bends;
if I should lose the turning path,
send scent of rice and love—amen.