Famous quotes and poetry on flowers & their roles in our lives (April 2024)

Susan’s Thursday mornign note April 25, 2024
Poetry and Quotes on Flowers

Good morning!  Strong coffee.  Hidden sun trying to sleep in.  Overcast and quiet.  Flowers all closed and damp beginning to wake up this morning to their new surroundings.  My angel of dawn has just arrived at my door with her bouquet of tiny flowers.  The spring flowers that last only a few hours in my vase, but bring hope to another season in this song called life.  I read a beautiful poem called The Song of the Flower this week.  This poem was written a century ago with the wisdom of a flower looking upward.  The beauty of all of the roles a flower plays in our songs.  I have followed this with another favorite poem on a flower found pressed in a book with the Russian poet 200 years ago questioning what the story was behind the picked flower and favorite quotes for you on flowers.  I picture flowers pressed in the pages of my books, all with their own stories known only to my heart.  I picture bouquets that have come and gone through my door, each on their own mission to give me what I will gratefully receive on each occasion.  What else gives such diversity with their gift?  Joy.  Peace.  Sadness.  Forgiveness.  Understanding.  Silent friendship.  Happiness.  Sunshine.  Strength.  All in a little tiny blossom.  How I love to think what one small little flower can do for keeping hope alive.  As in The Little Prince by Antoine De St. Exupery, the gift to one particular soul of one little flower. 

Song of the Flower by Khalil Gibran (1883-1931)

I am a kind word uttered and repeated
By the voice of Nature;
I am a star fallen from the
Blue tent upon the green carpet. 

I am the daughter of the elements
With whom Winter conceived;
To whom Spring gave birth; I was
Reared in the lap of Summer and I
Slept in the bed of Autumn.

At dawn I unite with the breeze
 To announce the coming of light;
 At eventide I join the birds
 In bidding the light farewell.

The plains are decorated with
 My beautiful colors, and the air
 Is scented with my fragrance.

As I embrace Slumber the eyes of
 Night watch over me, and as I
 Awaken I stare at the sun, which is
 The only eye of the day.

I drink dew for wine, and hearken to
 The voices of the birds, and dance
 To the rhythmic swaying of the grass.

I am the lover's gift; I am the wedding wreath;
 I am the memory of a moment of happiness;
 I am the last gift of the living to the dead;
 I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.

But I look up high to see only the light,
 And never look down to see my shadow.
 This is wisdom which man must learn.

 The Flower by Alexander Pushkin (1799-1837)

A dried-out flower without fragrance
Forgotten in a book I see;
My soul’s somehow already racing
And fills with a strange reverie.

Where did it bloom? In which spring? When?
Did it bloom long? Who picked it then?
By stranger’s hand or by a friend?
Who put it here and to what end?

In memory of tender trysting
Or else of fateful parting day?
Or else perhaps a lone walk wistful
In silent fields and wooded shade?

Do he and she still live, I wonder?
And where now is their little nook?
Or have they faded, lost their luster,
Like this small flower in this book?

“There is not the least flower but seems to hold up its head, and to look pleasantly, in the secret sense of the goodness of its Heavenly Maker.”  Robert South

“All of us, children and adults, are beautiful flowers. 
Our eyelids are exactly like rose petals, especially when our eyes are closed.
Our ears are like morning glories listening to the sounds of birds.
Our lips form a beautiful flower every time we smile. 
And our two hands are a lotus flower with five petals. 
The practice is to keep our “flowerness” alive and present, not just for our own benefit but for the happiness of everyone”.   Thieh Nhat Hanh

“The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks.”  Tennessee Williams

“If one finds oneself with bread in both hands, that person should exchange one loaf for some flowers of the narcissus, because the loaf feeds the body, but the flowers feed the soul.  Mohammad

“More than anything, I must have flowers, always, always… I perhaps owe becoming a painter to flowers.”  Claude Monet

“God will reward you,’ he said. ‘You must be an angel since you care for flowers.”   Victor Hugo

Bread feeds the body, indeed, but flowers feed also the soul.”  The Koran

 “To analyze the charms of flowers is like dissecting music; it is one of those things which it is far better to enjoy than to attempt to understand.”  Henry Tuckerman

“For all these years you’ve protected the seed.  It’s time to become the flower.”  Stephen Paul

 …flowers feed the soul.  How I love that line.  These all remind me of an entry in Anne Lindbergh’s diary written by a poet from the early 1800’s, Gerard Manley Hopkins.  “O thou Lord of life, send my roots rain.”  Spring flowers.  All now awake outside my front door sending me their smiles as I will walk past them this morning.  And the real fun of spring – to see some buds on new flowers that have not yet shown what their colors will be, but showing they are ready to open, to greet me, to show how life always continues to go by as our song.  Our movements.  Our seasons.  All with nature showing us in every season how to look up to the heavens.  Where the promise of help and peace awaits.   Have a beautiful end of the week. 

Thank you for letting me again enter your Thursday.  For entering our store for your books and gifts.  Maybe this week is the week you will pick a book to take home that will change the rest of your life.  Tonight.  Tonight we will again have the chance to carve into our stone words of our life today.  Our epitaph for moments we are about to be handed.  Will we stop some moments mentally and make them worthy of inscription?  Will we keep a countenance of peace even when alone?  Will we pick a small little flower and let it float in water next to us, bringing us the perspective of what is eternal and beautiful?  Birds are singing, regardless of their skill.  Flowers are blooming, regardless of the length of their spectacle.  We are here, regardless of our particular movements in our songs.  Will we continue to look to the heavens and find beauty and peace?  I hope you can come over soon and enter our world.  We’ll have the coffee ready.  Come escape your world for a few minutes and enter ours!  Susan

Latin for this week:
flos – flower, blossom
cheiranthus lucanus – enduring beauty
splendor – shine, radiance
floreo – thrive, blossom