I always feel like the first daylily is cause for celebration. It is my personal Mother's Day. I remember how my mother would pick just the flower off the long stem of a daylily. Sometimes they came from the side of the road or her sister's garden or, later in life, from her garden in Maine. The flowers went on the table sometimes in a Dixie cup, a glass jar or in one of my teacups.There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.
-- Li-Young Lee, from "From Blossoms," Rose: Poems (BOA Editions, Ltd., 1986)