Sunflowers

by Valerie Creane

I only just learned that

sunflowers follow the sun

they know what they need

and turn towards it,

no self recriminations or doubt,

no twisted illusion that

they must do it on their own

every day they turn their

open yellow faces

to the sun and follow the

vast trajectory of light

until the velvet dark settles

across the lap of the horizon,

and they once again turn East,

trusting in the sun’s rising

perhaps I should have known this before,

given their name, sunflowers,

but I only saw their sunlike yellow faces

and looked no further

we miss so much when our attention

skips and drifts, I missed all the motion

in their lovely tall bodies, all the wisdom in

their bristled stalks and green reaching souls

who says humans are the purveyors of intelligence?

we have such trouble turning towards the light

such trouble believing in it in the first place

though our roots lie in the earth

we see ourselves as separate:

bitter and free

the green things have

a wisdom all their own

in my dream of dreams

we are sunflowers

in a boundless muddy field

reaching and waving

in the changing light

as we lean together

towards what sustains us

and this is our magic, our wisdom,

for it is only humans

who can wish things into being