A Flower’s Unquiet Spirit

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In the meadow-grass
The innocent white daisies blow,
The dandelion plume doth pass
Vaguely to and fro, –
The unquiet spirit of a flower

That hath too brief an hour.
~Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz

 

 

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Tis May; and yet the March flower Dandelion
Is still in bloom among the emerald grass,
Shining like guineas with the sun’s warm eye on–
We almost think they are gold as we pass,
Or fallen stars in a green sea of grass.
They shine in fields, or waste grounds near the town.
They closed like painter’s brush when even was.
At length they turn to nothing else but down,
While the rude winds blow off each shadowy crown.
~John Clare

 

 

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There are dandelions on fire and wearing jewels
everywhere I look.
Like a seed released when buffeted,
or simply blown aloft at the moment of ripeness,
may I be the unquiet flower spirit
carrying your Word on fragile wings
to far corners and hidden places;
settling softly, taking root
wherever your breath takes me.

 

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3 thoughts on “A Flower’s Unquiet Spirit

  1. Bane of landscapers and serious gardeners,
    Delight of children, and to me nearing seventy
    Still the most amazing flower of all, violet’s
    Brilliant companion, the dandy lion of Spring!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. We have a patch of dandelions not far from our sunroom window.
    My dad doesn’t like them.
    “When will they be gone?” he asks.
    While looking at your wonderful pictures,
    I thought…Just like a mass of people.
    One has to get up close and personal to discover the real beauty of each individual.
    Linda

    Liked by 1 person

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