Only the Sunflower

I don't normally post my poetry here, I have a special folder where I hide that stuff :-)
I thought this was worth sharing. Sometimes words just come to me, sometimes it's images and I write what I see (like with this poem) and sometimes I see relational dynamics and write about what I see. That is what usually gets posted here, the way I see our relational dynamics. So I thought it would be nice to take a break from seriousness and post this piece. Read it from the perspective of the Sunflower.

Only the Sunflower

Outside my window a sunflower rises

I watch it day to day

I see it's beauty and its necessity

I see bees come and take its nectar

and spread its pollen

I see it feed the squirrels before its seeds have fallen

I see its perfection before I ever knew the word sunflower





I hear some pronouncing it differently

I hear the heated arguments as each say the other is wrong

I hear the cries for mercy as the wars wage to be right

I hear the somber music played for those who died

and those who remember

I hear those who say their flower will return, that it is December





I feel a wrenching pain in my chest

I feel an insurmountable lump in my throat

I feel my tears streaming down my face

I feel the tangible electricity leave my every hair on end

and my heart in despair

I feel my spirit fill with a need to take care



We could all look upon it and smile, though we may call it something different

Because a flower with no name doesn't realize this

It is here, then it is gone

Its gift is immaterial, primordial, the essence of life and the force which takes it.



I watched the sunflower with love, from above and I gave no more love to it than to those fighting the wars, those who cried and those who begged why, but only the sunflower grew.



Ryan Kenneth Nikkel 12/02/11