Sunflower

posted for Poets United's Thursday Think Tank : sunflowers

Her round baby face

was my sunshine

when she was two.

She shone golden

as the sun

as up she grew.

But then came
years of tears
and betrayed heart
and betrayed trust,
as she sought love

the way true seekers

always must.


We both love sunflowers

for their brightness

and their shine,
and how they dare
to dream the heavens
as they climb.


There is no happy ending,
just our lives,
flowing through
the ups and downs

that oh so slowly

make us wise.

But her voice has
laughter in it,
these days,
when I call,
for she found
the  love
she had been
seeking,
learned
to trust it,
after all,
slowly
opening her heart
the way
a sunflower
gently lets
each
golden petal
fall.