Somehow, I don’t think I’ll be posting a poem next Thursday, because Nik and I will be in Alaska for Rachel’s wedding! So this is it for a couple weeks!
The
Sunflowers
Mary Oliver
Come with me
into the
field of sunflowers
Their
faces are burnished disks,
their
dry spines,
creak like ship mast,
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.
Very nice poem. I saw huge fields of sunflowers last August when I visited Mary Lou in Colorado. They seemed to go on for miles.