A Garden Amongst The Weeds

A Garden Amongst The Weeds

Friday, July 27, 2012

The Sunflowers

The Sunflowers

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 crowd 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.

A love poem by Mary Oliver

And as always,
Happy Gardening!

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