The rose recognizes the beauty of the sunflower, all the while self-assured in her own. She does not envy the golden beauty for her appeal to you

She knows better - she has guarded her stem from the likes of your fingers and the fingers of those before you, and the ones that will come after

She knows that while you, selfishly and ignorantly, believe the garden to be created for you...

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a sunflower smile
on this windy sunny day
with hope of some rain

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Was it the yellow of your bright petals
or the way you danced in the breeze
that I brought you home from fields?
Was it the strength of your upright stalks
or the camaraderie, your solidarity?

There in the sun you sang hope,
songs that filled a mourning heart;
there in the wind you whispered
plaintive farewells on conflicted air-
fill this grieving with consolat...

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