There is fire of gold
in the sunflower, hidden
in its veins.
It stands
turning towards the sun
all the time
in greed to suck
more gold.
I thought the sun
begets a million suns
inside its veins
and I tried to find
a way to open
the veins in vain,
to scoop a few
to put in my veins.
It is good that I
couldn’t do it,
for, after a while
the flames of the fire
soar high and high
and burn the whole gold
to brown earth
in its petals, and
then the petals bend
downward
towards the earth.
The earth smiles
through many tiny
flowers in her lap and waves
its green hands of grass
saying “Welcome Home”
A colourful and vibrant poetic divertissement.
Editorial Note :-
Whilst the poem is generally crisp and succinct in its delivery,the third stanza might bear revisiting.
Done … Louis, thank you 🙂
a scenic view of how it blooms and how it wither…from the ground of the earth that gives life shall then go back on earth to join the dirt from soil to soil… like man’s ashes to ashes and dust to dust… a metaphor of living and dying…
Thank you Suzette 🙂
An exquisite, enthralling poem filled with carefully selected images linked by a profound theme.
Thank you Vijay Sir 🙂