Missing Sunflower Whispers (A Poem)

I spent a summer living without sunflowers.

After more than two decades in a home,

In a neighborhood with numerous other

Houses with sunflowers in their yards,

I was elsewhere and missed them.

Their majestic stems and yellow petals

Rising to towering heights

Had been the subjects of many images preserved.

Beyond the simple visual appeal,

I missed observing the always fascinating process

Of sunflowers becoming sunflowers—and blooming.

And I missed the wisdom gained

From sunflowers whispering when the wind blows,

When the secrets of the ages of collecting energy

To mimic the Earth’s source of light and heat

Are plucked from the stems, petals, and seeds,

And sent airborne to be heard by those who listen.

The leaves from the stems are like welcoming arms that

Signal being open.

The stems rising slowly but steadily

To heights attained by few other flowers

Speak of perseverance.

The flowers tracing the sun’s movement

Through the bright blue sky

Whisper of the quest flowers complete each day.

The stubborn green stems

Despite wind and storms standing straight and tall

Grumble about resilience and strength.

The flowers starting out looking like bulbs,

Opening over days and later showing bright in the sky,

With each flower at its own speed,

Tell of truth to oneself.

This year I could only reflect on lessons

I’ve learned from watching in the past—

And dream of new lessons next year’s flowers

In my permanent neighborhood might hold.

Being open to new lessons,

Persevering in my quest to learn,

Being resilient, strong, and true to myself

As I take pleasure in learning and sharing lessons of joy

From the simplest things in my world.