Why Dandelion Dayz?

Well, Dandelion Dayz was not the first name I came up with for my blog. I had several but they just never seemed to click for me. Then I saw a picture of a dandelion and it was the proverbial light bulb going off in my head that I needed.


I spelled days with a Z because the correct spelling was already taken and I guess it also allows for a peek at the little bit of quirkiness in my personality.

Dandelions grow in my yard. I am guessing they grow in your yard, too. If I don't get to them in time those annoying puffy seeds blow all over and seed more dandelions. My kids have fun making wishes and blowing the puff ball all around.

More dandelions grow in my yard. I like to pull them up by the roots and throw them away. My kids pick them and proudly give them to me. We put them in a paper cup and admire them for a day until they die.

So, yes these dandelions grow in my yard. I see them as weeds. My children see them as flowers. When did it change for me?

These are the days that my children see dandelions as flowers. They bring them in the house to me with love. They blow the puff balls around while making silly wishes. Someday, they too will have a different opinion of these little yellow flowers. My blog title is in honor of this time I have with them now. It is a reminder to see the flowers of life instead of the weeds.


********************************************************
I asked a couple friends what dandelions reminded them of and this is what they said,

"Dandelions – they remind me of hot summers in Ohio, green grass, coffee cup vases and tiny stems, tickling the soft petals on each other’s cheeks until we had yellow “fairy spots” and the certainty that with a handful of them I always had the power to put a smile on my mom’s face. She loved flowers and grew orchids as a hobby but still accepted my dandelion offerings as precious flowers. They remind me of wishes, free afternoons that seemed to last for days and spinning in circles with the white puff on its green stem clutched in my hand to free the floating seeds (much to the consternation of our neighbors). It is ironic that as a child it was beautiful, a symbol of tenacity, freedom and innocence and now it is a nuisance and a sign you don’t care for your lawn" -Julie

Floating through time and drifting in in space

Its maker with purpose to determine the place

Gently and quietly falling to the ground

Embedding in the earth without the smallest of sound.

Growing and changing while the world passes by

For on the side of this highway every one always hurries right by.

As fall becomes winter roots form in a stem

The seed shown mercy and its purpose begins.

What will it become, only its maker will know

But with water and sunlight it continues to grow.

Grow, and grow till the stems branch and divide

Reaching for its maker up to the sky.

Reaching and Reaching till its stem is quite tall

And puffy white tips dot the ends of them all.

Night turns to day and across in a field

Playful laughter is heard shoes run toe to heel

Children are playing and plucking flowers to blow

The seed watches and wishes she would to know

Her purpose in life as those seed had become

Glory for their father and joy for the Son.

But no laughter was hear on her side of the road

and soon all the footsteps proceeded to go.

Winds came and went but her stem still stood strong

The maker knowing the plan all along.

Then one day the rush of an engine was heard

Man made rain from a truck was dispersed over her.

She watched as friends around her withered from infection

She prayed to her maker to send her protection

Somewhere inside she knew he could save her

So she reached down inside and called on her Savior.

Slowly but surely she continued to stand

A mark on the pages of God's mighty plan

As her seeds began to blow in the wind they glided

Again with a purpose their maker decided.

She sat almost bare with her stem high strong and true

She knew now to wait for her makers renew.

A weed they would say as they all passed her by

Crazy and different not for any purpose or cry.

But then it happened one morning as they all passed her way;

She had changed her stem developing into a beautiful display

Of colorful petals that glistened in the sun.

Look at what her maker had chosen her to become.

And she suddenly heard it the screech of those tires

and foots steps beside her and a pluck from the mires.

She heard the voice say... mom will love this one for sure.

And she realized her maker had helped her endure

Every sunrise and sunset from then until now

To show his beauty to a stranger... his final bow.

-Catherine

If you would like to share with me your thoughts on dandelions please leave a comment!

I will choose to see flowers,