If you love me
Bring me flowers
Wild daisies
Clutched in your fist
Like a torch
No orchids or roses
Or carnations
No florist's bow
Just daisies
Steal them
Risk your life for them
Up the sharp hills
In the teeth of the wind
If you love me
Bring me daisies
Wild daisies
That I will cram
In a bright vase
And marvel at
*Inspired by my good friend Reija
who is an example to me
B. Dance-- I loved how this post followed your previous one about the beautiful shell and the African boy. The wild daisies poem shares, among other things, the same message: that the beauty in people and gifts is not only in their physical substance, but also in the heart and effort of the giver and in the glow of the recipient. A timely message perhaps for Christmas, although the poem is not of course a Christmas poem. Rather, it is a love poem and a statement of adventure and longing and a plea to treasure love as a precious, perhaps arduous process that transforms some small, innocuous and overlooked thing or person into a source of "marvel." Isn't that glorious? Search on, Brent Dance. Trudge on... because with each step taken, if taken in the spirit of wild daisies, your eventual gift becomes all the more beautiful.
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