Five Iron Frenzy
In a field of yellow flowers,
underneath the sun,
bluest eyes that spark with lightning,
boy with shoes undone.
He is young, so full of hope,
reveling in tiny dreams,
filling up, his arms with flowers,
right for giving any queen.
Running to her beaming bright,
while cradling his prize.
A flickering of yellow light,
within his mother's eyes.
She holds them to her heart,
keeping them where they'll be safe,
clasped within her very marrow,
dandelions in a vase.
She sees love, where anyone else would see weeds.
all hope is found.
Here is everything he needs.
Fathomless your endless mercy,
weight I could not lift.
Where do I fit in this puzzle,
what good are these gifts?
Not a martyr, or a saint,
scarcely can I struggle through.
All that I have ever wanted,
was to give my best to you.
Lord, search my heart,
create in me something clean.
you see flowers in these weeds.
Gently lifting hands to heaven,
softened by the sweetest hush,
a Father sings over his children,
loving them so very much.
More than words could warrant,
deeper than the darkest blue,
more than sacrifice could merit,
Lord, I give my heart to you.
spring and summer to me...
driving home today with the window down, with the smell of lingering rain, i couldn't help but smile. the cool breeze was perfection, the smell of of rain refreshing, and the sight was lovely, almost dreamlike. the sides of the road were covered with brightly colored dandelions. hundreds, thousands of them, breaking up the ashen black roads, and greening grass.
and i knew that it was spring. that summer is around the corner. and those little yellow flowered weeds, mean life. i see beauty in those yellow flowers. i see children running around gathering them by fist fulls to give lovingly to their mothers. i see mothers putting them in a glass filled with water, where they will only live for a matter for hours, but wanting to enjoy them for every minute they are alive. i see dandelions morphing into fuzzy, willowly, dreamy globes of fulfilled wishes. children and adults of every kind picking up a fuzzy dandelion and making a wish as they blow the seeds into the sky. i see the magic that those wishes hold. when i look at dandelions, i see something that could be so ugly, a weed... that still holds beauty. life, beauty, promise.
there is something about dandelions. something about a weed, ugly and maybe even evil to some, that can still be beautiful. possibility, promise, life. the hope of something ugly turning into something beautiful. the idea that something good can be found in many bad things. that perhaps, something good can be found in the bad, evil depths of me. maybe, you'll have to dig really deep though...
and when those little yellow glimpses of spring and light begin to appear... it does something inside of me. it brings me joy, even in tiny doses, there is joy. there is hope of spring and warmth, and summer showers. there is hope of life and beauty.
those little weeds mean spring, and summer, and joy, and life to me... and when straggling dandelions find their way to my yard, i will smile a little inside, while matthew goes out to dig up that stupid weed that is ruining his yard.
"It gives one a sudden start in going down a barren, stony street, to see upon a narrow strip of grass, just within the iron fence, the radiant dandelion, shining in the sun, like a spark dropped from the sun."
Henry Ward Beecher
Henryk T Kaiser