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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