Every time I arrange fresh flowers, I choose the blossoms from my garden and the vase from my shelf so that color and form complement each other. Four days later, I see the vermilion rose is developing a silver sheen that would be enhanced in pewter. I choose a new vase; I honor the aging; I create a new form. Just as order and beauty are crucial to a floral arrangement, so order and beauty are necessary for the well-being of my soul. They mirror each other.
If you provided a marriage feast
and the thankless guests crowded
at the table, gobbling the food
without tasting it, and shoving
one another away, so that some ate
too much and some ate nothing,
would you not be offended?
Or if, seated at your bountiful table,
your guests picked and finicked
over the food, eating only a little,
refusing the wine and the dessert,
claiming that to fill their bellies
and rejoice would impair their souls,
would you not be offended?