To a Daisy
Slight as thou art, thou art enough to hide
Like all created things, secrets from me,
And stand a barrier to eternity.
And I, how can I praise thee well and wide,
From where I dwell--upon the hither side?
Thou little veil for so great mystery,
When shall I penetrate all things and thee,
And then look back? For this I must abide,
Till thou shalt grow and fold and be unfurled
Literally between me and the world.
Then I shall drink from in beneath a spring,
And from a poet's side shall read his book.
O daisy mine, what will it be to look
From God's side even of such a simple thing?
And then Quinn finishes his essay thus:
Shall we understand even better the lovableness of the animals we have comforted in the present world and grasp the mystery of the wild glare in the eyes of those we could not tame? If we are to see the tiger's Creator, shall we not also penetrate the distant deeps and skies, the forests of the night, and face without fear the burning eyes of the creature now forever free?
Animals and Christianity: a book of readings, ed. Andrew Linzey and Tom Regan. New York. 1988.