Susan's Thursday morning note June 20, 2019 Daisy Quotes & Poetry
Good morning! The trees look like June icicles with the sunlight hitting the wet leaves just perfectly. My little birds are all sleeping in. One little butterfly has decided to greet me this morning. She is flying past my window encouraging me to enter this day…to look up to her heavens to keep my perspective of life being beautiful. Now she is sweeping past my columbine to remind me to notice. To start my day aware and in awe of the gifts from the heavens already given to me this morning. All sparkling from the morning light hitting their wet petals. My angel of dawn now also peering into my window handing me a morning daisy with raindrops still on the petals. My little daisy always looking up to the heavens..
A children’s songbook was brought into the store this week published in 1929. I try to picture the child that sang from this particular book. The schoolhouse. The songs in the air. The butterfly the child watched playing near the daisies. One song in particular I loved, The Daisies by Julia Willard. “See the daisies have come to town With frilled white cap and new green gown; They nod so gaily as we pass, and nestle safely in the grass, And nestle safely in the grass…”
The origin of the word daisy comes from the Old English word dægeseage, meaning “day’s eye” – for the flower opened and closed with the sun. When looking for older poetry and quotes on the daisy so many reference opposite emotions. Joy. Meadows. Spring. Friendship. Sorrow. Graveyards. Quiet meadows. Tears. Grief. Friendship. Brides. Tombstones. Daisies for the extremes. But always touching the soul so deeply. Were they created intentionally to help us remember to always open and close and open and close our souls throughout our lives. To rest as the sun rests? To awaken and look to the heavens as the sun rises? Below are my favorite poems and quotes from different centuries referring to the daisy. Joy. Sorrow. All beautiful.
One can get just as much exultation in losing oneself in a little thing as in a big thing. It is nice to think how one can be recklessly lost in a daisy. Anne Lindbergh
I had wondered for a long time why God had preferences and why all souls did not receive an equal amount of grace…Jesus saw fit to enlighten me about this mystery. He set the book of nature before me and I saw that all the flowers He has created are lovely. The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of its scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. I realized that if every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness and there would be no wild flowers to make the meadows gay. Nature would no longer be enameled with lovely hues. And so it is in the world of souls, Our Lord’s living garden. Therese of Lisieux (1873-1897)
The love of God toward you is like the Amazon River flowing down to water a single daisy. F.B. Meyer (1847-1929)
I shall soon be laid in the quiet grave Thank God for the quiet grave! O! I can feel the cold earth above me The daisies growing over me O for this quiet – it will be my first. John Keats (1795-1821)
But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic monotony that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never gotten tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy, for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we. Gilbert K. Chesterton (1874-1936)
Daisy (Anonymous, Published 1887 The Fortnightly Review, Princeton University) I'd choose to be a daisy, If I might be a flower, My petals closing softly At twilight's quiet hour, And waking in the morning When falls the early dew, To welcome heaven's bright sunshine, And heaven's bright tear-drops too. I love the gentle lily: It looks so meek and fair; But daisies I love better, For they grow everywhere. The lilies bloom so sadly, In sunshine or in shower; But daisies still look upward, However dark the hour.
Daisy Hymn by T.F. Seward 1835-1902)
In the early Springtime, when the violets grow,
When the birds sing sweetly, and the soft winds blow,
Comes the little daisy, blooming fresh and fair,
Springing bright and joyous in the morning air.
Sunny little blossom, on your slender stalk,
How much you would teach us if you could but talk!
Every looking upward, all the livelong day,
Bright your faces turn, To catch each sunbeam’s ray.
Daisies by Frank Dempster Sherman (1860-1916) At evening when I go to bed I see the stars shine overhead; They are the little daisies white That dot the meadow of the Night. And often while I'm dreaming so, Across the sky the Moon will go; It is a lady, sweet and fair, Who comes to gather daisies there. For, when at morning I arise, There's not a star left in the skies; She's picked them all and dropped them down Into the meadows of the town.
Daisy Flower Child by Elizabeth Gordon (published 1910) Little golden-hearted Daisy Told the sun that she felt lazy; Said the earth was quite too wet, She thought she wouldn’t open yet.
The Field Flower by Ann Taylor (1782-1866) I’m a pretty little thing, Always coming with the spring; In the meadows green I'm found, Peeping just above the ground, And my stalk is cover'd flat With a white and yellow hat. Little Mary, when you pass Lightly o'er the tender grass, Skip about, but do not tread On my bright but lowly head, For I always seem to say, "Surely winter's gone away."
Thank you for letting me again enter your Thursday. I now hear my little birds that slept in late singing a little off key, but singing their hearts out to me, nonetheless. Sunny little blossom, on your slender stalk, How much you would teach us if you could but talk! Ever looking upward, all the livelong day, Bright your faces turn, To catch each sunbeam’s ray…Tonight we will have the chance to mentally write our epitaph of moments we will no longer get back. Moments ahead of us the next few hours. Will we mentally stop sand as it flows so quickly with time? Will we notice eyes? Will we hear the birds and look up them in gratefulness for their songs? Will we drop to our knees, even mentally, for strength? Will we look to the heavens? Will we notice? Life. So fast. So beautiful. Thank you for coming into our store for your toys, gifts, books, and friendship. Have a beautiful weekend – the daisies are reminding us all to continually open after the darkness. To face upwards. To hear the birds and notice as the children notice. Blessed are the children. They notice details. They see God. Susan
Latin for this week: primula – daisy ego levo oculos meos ad caelum – I lift my eyes to the heavens.