Who doesn’t love sunflowers?
Is it a love born in our youth as we pondered their giant presence looming over a backyard fence or as we dug those buried seed pods out of bed…
They are one of the best of summer yet perhaps old-fashioned to some who don’t remember sun bonnets or rope swings that dropped into a creek that ran with crawdads and minnows.
To me they will always be special for making a summer sky bluer by their bobbing heads upward turned.
Dream Work by Mary Oliver
Come with me into the field of sunflowers.
Their faces are burnished disks,
their dry spines creak like ship masts,
their green leaves, so heavy and many,
fill all day with the sticky sugars of the sun.
Come with me to visit the sunflowers.
They are shy but want to be friends;
they have wonderful stories of when they were young~
The important weather, the wandering crows.
Don’t be afraid to ask them questions!
Their bright faces which follow the sun, will listen,
and all those rows of seeds,
each one a new life,
hope for a deeper acquaintance;
Each of them, though it stands in a crown of many,
like a separate universe is lonely,
the long work of turning their lives into a celebration
is not easy.
Come and let us talk with those modest faces,
the simple garments of leaves,
the coarse roots in the earth
so uprightly burning.