THE SUNFLOWERS ...

Come with me 

into the field of sunflowers.

Their faces are burnished disks,

Their dry spines

Creak like ship masts,

Their green leaves,

So heavy and many

Fill the 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 garment of leaves,

The coarse roots in the earth

So uprightly burning.

The Sunflower by Mary Oliver