17 October 2026

The good Will of a Flower


The good Will of a Flower
The Man who would possess
Must first present
Certificate
Of minted Holiness.


   -F954, J849, sheet 20, 1865

This poem begins with the good Will of a Flower. First, let’s state the obvious. Flowers may have a natural benevolence, but they don’t have wills. So then what are we talking about here? I’ll go out on a limb and say Dickinson probably had a woman in mind here. A flower attracting a bee may be seen as analogous to a woman attracting a lover. Flowers open up for bees as a woman might open for a lover. But the crucial difference between the two is that a woman does have a will. A flower opens for any bee willy nilly, but a woman will not.

If you want a woman’s good Will, her willingness, she must first be “certain” of your intentions. Here Dickinson jokingly gets at the idea of certitude with the term “certificate.” One must be wholly, certifiably, trustworthy. Holy.

                     

“Minted,” like Certificate, is another arch word choice here. Like certified, to mint a coin originally meant to stamp it with the official state seal. So here it means something like being officially stamped by heaven itself.

A modern equivalent to this sentiment might be heard in the BeyoncĂ© song, “All the Single Ladies (Put a ring on it.)”



"Don't treat me to these things of the world
I'm not that kind of girl, your love is what I deserve"


Putting a ring on a finger doesn’t certify holiness, as a billion broken marriages can attest to, but that’s the idea anyway.

You can read the word possession in this poem in a couple of ways, and the reading of the poem changes depending. In the above reading, the one I think Dickinson largely means, we are talking about romantic possession, which is something different than merely possessiveness. She often uses the word “Mine” when writing about her beloved. There is a kind of possession that may be seen as pure, and therefore "holy." It’s that feeling of wanting to be loved by one uniquely special person, who is in turn loved by you, exclusively.

In this reading you are choosing a lasting love over temporary desire.


      -/)dam Wade l)eGraff


P.S. One can't help but wonder if this poem was written for a suitor, and, even more tantalizingly, if it was sent to one with a flower.


P.P.S. An alternative reading, one that Dickinson may or may not have had in mind, but is suggested nonetheless by its vocabulary:

I mentioned in the comments to the poem previous to this one that in Billy Collins’ introduction to an Emily Dickinson Selected Poems he talks about the way she plays Latin and Anglo-Saxon words against each other. This poem is another good example of this. 

If you focus on the just the tone of the two languages, the poem takes on a different meaning. 

The language begins simply, directly. The flower has a good Will, a natural generosity. But look at what happens when Dickinson introduces the person who wants to possess the flower:

Must first present 
Certificate 
Of minted Holiness.

Possess, present, certificate are Latinate words, formal and bureaucratic.  And then comes the wonderful contradiction of “minted Holiness.” Minted suggests something manufactured, like a coin. Yet holiness should be inward and sacred. The poem's language shows us a conflict, natural goodness versus the human desire to own and regulate.

15 comments:

  1. So quick to dismiss a flower’s will!

    The philosopher Daniel Dennett argues that the closest thing that any of us get to free will is access to reliable information. Then at least there is the possibility that we could make a decision that is actually good for us in some way. Of course maybe we make bad decisions. And good or bad, whatever we decide, we might have been cursed/fated to do so by a mountain-web of contingency. But if the world is one big lemons market, then free will is off the table.

    I think a flower’s will is the coolest part of this poem. A flowering plant has just about as much free will as I do. It receives a stream of information. A mixed bag. Some reliable cues. Some noise. I makes decisions. How much to allocate to vegetative growth verses flowering. When to flower. That kind of thing.

    The flower’s will is good. It entails and certain earnest openness to the world. It’s willing to trade nectar for pollination. It’s a good faith participant in the world’s economy. There’s a no-nonsense quality to it, even when it assumes outlandish forms. It gives sense to beauty. It’s purpose is to attract, for the sake of life.

    So I see this poem as doing something similar to F952. All of us in the nodded-out navies, overwhelmed by the odds and our fate, we can’t help but be stamped by the good will of a flower. We’re tattooed with certificates of holiness. By to claim that is to forfeit some very dear illusions.

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  2. I wasn't so quick to dismiss a flower's will as it may seem. I did consider it. But in the end, a flower is subject to conditions, not choice. You can make the argument that the same goes for us, but I don't buy it. I do think it's well worth considering how little choice we actually have, but also equally worth considering how much we do. There are plenty of moments, on the daily, where I know better than to make the choice I'm making. Hello donut!

    That said, I dig your take on the poem. I couldn't quite follow your last paragraph though. Say more.

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    1. How I see it:

      We were fated to hem and haw. The flower’s will doesn’t doesn’t rob us of our agency. It explains it. The donut beckons. Multitudes weigh in. We are pulled in different directions (by ourselves). We progress along a will-vector.

      The decision-making apparatus is inherited. The sensors, transducers, circuits and levers – all inherited. Even its plasticity and re-programability are inherited.

      The flow sits on top of genetic and developmental systems that are loaded with sensors, transducers, and regulatory networks full of switches, feedforward circuits, and feedbacks. In other words, flowers are outputs of complex decision making machines.

      Animalhood involves more movement and behaviour. We’ve got more decisions to make and more complex systems to make them. It’s distracting. It makes it easy to mistake the flower’s will as something other than our own.

      Owning the flower’s will is disowning anything that would give your own will some kind of privileged status. It’s a holy thing. Because it’s the truth.

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    2. I think I understand what you are saying here, but am missing the link to the nodding navies.

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    3. Ah, right. In F952, we start out nodding in navies, on the cusp of infinite venture, laden with possibility. You were saying maybe its a good idea to basically stay there. Non-action might be non-possible. But to strike out on a specific willful path is the collapse into finitude and failure. So, go with the flow. Stay open, strutless, and mind the stove boats. That kind of thing. Quasi-non-action would be akin to the flower's will.

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    4. Oh that's good! My confusion came because I interpreted "nodding in navies nevermore" differently than you. I thought it meant the "creature" set out and was overwhelmed by the odds and failed and is now dead (nevermore) and nodding in the water with all the other drowned navies, in opposition to the one ship that made it and is strutting. But it appears you interpreted it as the "creature" never venturing out, "overwhelmed" with possibility and so "nodding in navies nevermore." I can see that reading of those lines too. But we both concluded strutlessness.

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  3. In thinking about Michael Pollan's book, The Botany of Desire, which posits that plants domesticate us, and then reflecting on all the research that has been done on trees communicating with each other, I wonder if maybe there is something to the will of a flower after all.

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  4. I suppose that means if you want to have flowers of good will, you have to be a person of good will, right?

    David Priest calls this poem ‘an unusual gardening tip from Emily’.

    I think the most important tip I’ve learned from growing plants is not to plant the flowers I want to grow, but to plant flowers that are suited to the environment where they’ll grow.

    According to the book , plants can think, read human minds, and even enjoy classical music.

    The words of a researcher observing how plants respond to various stimuli are quite striking.

    “There was a time, when I was a child, when the whole world seemed alive and knowing. Trees were friends and as George Eliot put it: ‘Flowers see us and know what we’re thinking about.’ Then came a time when plants just grew, silently and without emotion. But today, I’m entering a second childhood, as least as far as plants are concerned.”

    Moon

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    1. An unusual gardening tip. Nice one, David Priest. I love that the quote from the researcher just so happens to mention Emily's favorite author, George Eliot.

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  5. The name of the book is 'The Secret Life of Plants'

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    1. I've heard of the book. My favorite album by Stevie Wonder, also called The Secret Life of Plants, was based on it. On that album he attempts to compose songs from the vantage point of the plants themselves. I believe it was a soundtrack to a movie based on the book.

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  6. Flowers can be quarrelsome as poor Alice discovered in her Wonderland. Well there are theories that talking to plants is a growth stimulator. There's enough stuff on the web regarding this. I think here the poem is just saying that while we love flowers and they kind of love us back they would love the pure hearted amongst us with even more tenderness. Charles Dickens said something about babies being fresh from God. All babies are certifiable as holy. But I guess we older types have to work to maintain our certification or else it expires. So if we want nature to be benevolent towards us and bless us with flowers, fruits, and beauty, let us always keep the faith

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    1. "We older types have to work to maintain our certification [of holiness]" -- I love that.
      The work is letting go of one's older-type, non-flower-baby willfulness. And yeah, recognizing that doesn't let you off of any hooks. With great flower comes great responsibility.

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  7. Somehow I'm also remembering the poem where emily says to be a flower is great responsibility

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  8. Just checked. We get the name of this blog from that poem!

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