The Sunflower

Have you never noticed how a sunflower always faces the sun throughout the entire day?

How her petals frolic in the wind and play?

Have you never wondered how the sunflower came to be?

Her fascinating story about how she became free?

Come with me; I will show you the amazing tale about the life of a little seedling that will change your hearts forever.

Once upon a time, in a land that once sparkled and gleamed

There was a tiny seedling that had a very big dream

That one day she would grow and shine ever so brightly

And escape from the weeds that bounded her up ever so tightly

For you see this particular land, that once sparkled and gleamed

Was overrun by roots and weeds that were ever so mean.

They blocked the sunlight from the sun

They teased the seedlings that hadn’t none

They drank up all the spring water underground

And after that, there was no water to be found

The seedlings died off, never to fully bloom

The once enchanting land was now filled with gloom.

Could there not have been anymore mope?

But there was still a tiny seedling brimming with hope

She challenged the rotten roots and wicked weeds

She cursed them for their horrible terrible dastardly deeds

She was small, yes, but she had strength on her side

She had a fire burning in her heart that she could not hide.

This tiny seedling had a big dream with an ever so big heart

She wanted to grow up big and tall but that’s just the start

She wanted to be strong and shine brightly like the others before her

Not in some darkened hole where her future was a murky blur

She stretched and she pushed but to no prevail

But she would not give up, she would not fail!

She had to overcome this obstacle that was holding her back

But these weeds were determined and weren’t cutting any slack

They caged her in and stopped her from spreading her roots

They laughed and teased her thinking that her imprisonment was such a hoot

They made her yield to her imprisonment

Made her give up and have no diligence.

Try as hard as she might, she could not break through

She’d given up on hope; her life turned a hazy dark inky blue.

Months went by without any commotion

I hope I am not correct on that daunting notion

If the land is grey and dead, you see

Then what is, now that I think about it, were to happen to me

I am the narrator; the one telling this tale

I would lose my job and… oh! How I would wail.

I truly hope that this is not the end

Wait, what is that? Is that an amend?

Oh hurray! The story is not over yet

It seems the more I tell it, the better it will get.

The tiny seedling that had once given up on hope

Started thinking about all the bad things the weeds had done to her and her friends; and she couldn’t cope

She began to quiver

She began to shake

But by the time the weeds began to fathom what she was doing

It was much too late.

With a mighty battle cry she broke free of their reins

They had surprised looks on their faces; dumbfounded expressions that they could not have feigned.

She rushed forth. Onward! Skyward! Towards the golden path of freedom!

The weeds shouted obscured profanities after her but she didn’t heed them

She sampled the pure, sweet taste of liberty upon her leaves

She had a fiery blaze in her heart that not even the harshest winter could freeze.

And with the breaking of the hazy mist-layered amber of dawn

There was a new sun, grown from the brush of weeds from the surface of the earth, but equally as strong.