I keep a vase of sunflowers on my windowsill,
Reminders in dark days the sun is always with me still.
Each blossom; sown and nurtured, tended by my hands alone.
Blessed am I, to bring their love and light into my home.
Outside, they follow with adoring gaze,
as their God spins sideways through the days,
And when their reign of sunlit worship passes by,
they bow their heads in silent reverence to the sky.
Their fragile, flagpole stems crutched with a cane,
They brave each bitter onslaught from the wind and rain,
As time ravages, and plucks from them their golden crowns,
They shake the promise of new life into the ground.
As each one stretches ever onwards, reaching tall,
The higher that they climb, the greater danger they will fall.
They’re born to strive; reach up, reach out, towards the skies.
Their time is fleeting, but, despite it all, they always rise.