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The Sunflower



Death came and sat at my table.

The head of a sunflower in his hands.

Empty of seeds, it shone.

An architectural amazement.


Death began to speak -

This devotee of the sun is a great teacher.

Smitten each morning by the light-bringer;

the warmth-giver; the Golden Chariot.

Each day raising its head

in hope and innocence

The pure quality of its attention,

a wonder to witness.

Unfailing in its dutiful sky-watch

until the days shrink and the winds blow cold

to herald my arrival.


Death passed me the desiccated flower

and continued the tale –

This flower of the sun

did bow its head in surrender.

It’s seeds fed many birds and creatures

through the lean months of ice and snow.

And finally, with generous grace

it offered the remaining seeds of its creation

to the quiet, waiting earth it was born from.


Death leaned closer to me and whispered –

And even now, as you gaze

at its soft ochres and its wondrous geometry,

it brings you the gift of its beauty.


Hail sunflower, wise teacher,

giver of beauty, food and life.


(c) Kate Gold 2021


Audio version on Soundcloud



Music credit - www.bensounds.com


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