You were the Sunflowers [Poem on 8-13-12]

Sometimes I get lost in

the way clouds move

to the curvature of the earth,

or the way sunlight creates

shadows on leaves that when

moved capture the ground

beneath, which in reality

is moving at her own pace entirely.

You see, only the purest of sights

in my mind are reality

so most ideals of the

factual world never suited me much.

 

I have an uncanny desire to be something beautiful.

 

We call her nature but

to relate any bit of the

connections that exist to

the likes of a human

would cut them short.

I could never capture the relations:

the bottoms of clouds doused in golden sunlight

or the flints of platinum color that float on waves.

 

If I were to be nature

I’d be the sun, not because

I’d be the brightest, or most dominant

but because other things would be

brought to life because of my living.

 

I watch the silhouettes of sparrows

chase dragonflies

and I observe the leaves

become most beautiful before

they die getting brought to the

ground. Becoming covered in earthly

factors that hide them from the

entity that gave them life.

This morning I tasted autumn in the air.

 

I realized then, that

life is not guaranteed.

The season is gone.

The leaves decompose

and the dragonfly dies

as does the sparrow who

consumes it.

We must capture light where it can be found

in shadows of leaves across

faces but not just physically. Capture it

in drives with the windows down

and real hand-written letters in mailboxes.

 

For we live in a reality where

we cut flowers to make the

weak strong.

So instead I spend my reality

in blooming life, in color, in

the tallest of the flowers.

And in trying to give them light for their own growing

I reached and

I held the sun in my hands.