A stranger approaches…
It was in a field, as a matter of fact; purposeful strides.
Forests of sky and oceans of wheat before us, sunflowers dotting the landscape, her heartbeats humming electric around the yellow petal edges. What will become of us? The sun in her smile and flowers in her hair…
Time to break away,
from the sidewalks where she walks
to the sunflowers where we wander.
Leave lonely corners where she cowers
for a brighter place with taller towers.
Sunlights dims for the passing whims
of a growing storm, dark in form and reckless.
When it rains here in this field, it rains holy water.
Heaven careens toward earth to nourish flowers, a strong and certain chance of showers.
A crystalline christ bringing liquid life, seeping into every crevice; the gentlest knife
And this tower, is me – a strong green stalk rooted deep in firm soil. My face follows the sunshine daily, drinking in from the passionate star we revolve around.
But my destiny is not my own. I would not echo the generations of sunflowers before me, breaking pace with an elegant history.
A woman passed by, and I was no longer satisfied with a life of blooms and immobility.
I follow steps where she steps
Conversating when she’s waiting
Forming a haze with my gaze.
Love flowers with passing hours.
Leaves swish with my stalks
at backdoors where she knocks,
and i ask myself…
“Am I right where I need to be, or is this another distraction?
Is this how i’m supposed to feel? I’ve been trying to let go.
Is there a change you need to see, or is this another disaster?
Tell me how i’m supposed to feel – I’ve been trying to echo….”
my faults pursue me, my inadequacy relentless
the miracle will have to be marvellous.
We talk of sticks and stones and broken bones, how life can stretch and collapse and still remain unknown.
But if you listen, the very ground she creeps speaks, of soil and sin, of roots and stems, of water and wood, and hidden gems.
I don’t want to live a lie, clinging to past lives filled with these unflowers, these none-flowers, sickness, miscarriages, ashen structures of unlovely and lacklustre – No!
You can find me in foliage, a brand new bipedal, breathing fire, clutching green.
Alive and well among the flora and fauna, specifically Sunflowers,
where whispered prayers find higher powers.