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Our Children of the Sun – for Eliza and for Ukraine I sprouted in a naïve rootbound ball
believing sunflowers tracked the sun
turning faces throughout their days
but as age burst my earthen pot—I learned
only young sunflowers arc their sky
atop torsions of scrawny fibrous stalks they wake under morns of indigo mist
greeting their sun—then reflect passions
of supersaturated glow onto our world
unfailingly offering their splendor
and light to all who pass within range
of distant echoes of flawless yellow fields of inspiring blankets—stuffed
in squeaky strands of emerald embroidery
paint sunflower’s stored-up radiance
upon each other and then upon us
evangelists born of memorized sparks
preaching beneath flags of a blue horizon later—in maturing days—they stare east
all day long—craving hasty warmth
from colder shawls of a haunting night
early risers in days of a bowing age
selflessly storing their sacred life force
to pass to another colorful generation elders who cogitate on a magnificent life
of love and sacred beaming sacrifice—
unwearyingly await their renewal of days
in sun’s unfailing risings of timeless gold
to be restored in hands of their gardener
who will greet them in peace of the east stunning—with bright devotion
they solemnly grasp each fading day
cuddled in cherished tinsel moments
rubbing brows of dark reverent eyes
before drying as crackling leathers
to wilt into the dogged dust of time gilded spirits that labored tirelessly
spread seed like smoldering embers
into cascades of wisdom and hope
buried in fertile anticipating earth
nourished by vapors of freedom
and cloudless days of perseverance a new home stretching beyond hills
from where they once originated
patiently awaits the floods of rebirth
leaping proudly as peaceful flowers
petals clutching another spring season
to bravely spread their hope and light this deluge of absorbing sunflowers
forms a durable unassailable alloy
of numbers, unity, peace, and beauty
shouting out in choirs of sunny smiles
their refusal to never be defeated
in a journey for a pure and a free sky our blessed children of a friendly sun
will spread beyond any rein of repression
exposing earth’s inner glow of love
to hearts that once forgot their devotions
and as we scatter seeds of endless refuge
as we cultivate tranquility—we all learn— that the powers of our blossoming sun
will always defeat powers of dark rage
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