Sunflowers

Reaching high for ennobling

sun

they stand out

ambitious, awkward

clumsily demanding ordination

big heads on spindly legs

all too human in their proportions.

Just when they shed their green robes

for the yellow plumage of triumph,

they bow.

we know it is physics,

the burden of seed

drawing them over.

but it is something else,

a deep humility,

as if they’ve been touched

by grace.

Bent inward like devout monks,

heavy with praise,

they turn their loveliness downward

to the cracked and parched mother

who bore them

who barrened herself

for their eminence.