Let us walk down the path
whose silhouette can only be seen
visible through encroaching weeds and
overgrown grasses,
brown from the summer’s heat
At the end
where the trail vanishes
two sunflowers stand patient,
eagerly waiting for the sun’s rays
to wash over their prickly hairs
Burly rootstocks dig
deep, hugging the earth,
slinking like streams,
passionately entwining themselves
to those that came before
As sunshine drizzles down
through the atmosphere
their bright crowns sweet like honey
invite the passing butterflies—
Come, rest your wings!
They share the weight of their leaves,
heavy and many,
with presumptuous guests—
grasshoppers and caterpillars alike
gather to feast on leafy flesh
Anxious and agitated,
bellies full of gluttony,
they scurry away
at the slightest movement—
sheepish to passing observers
Not the Sunflowers, no.
Timid as they seem
they pose proud, full of stories and tales
of last winter’s frost and summer’s heat.
Listen!
Of the sneaky toucans who
crept into the orchard
gobbling up the mandarins,
reds and yellows blurred
hidden by delicious fruits
Let us walk down
to admire their spirals of seeds—
vortices of beauty and hope—
to stare into those crystal balls
where the future awaits
And soon it will be theirs!
Excited energy of generations to come
bursts forth heavy,
drooping the present;
aching stalks shrivel and dry
Reminders that one day
the path will be gone,
the two sunflowers no more,
their offspring dispersed elsewhere
In far off lands
Yet age cannot steal
the bright humility
shining from their faces
reflecting warmth
and kindness
Let us share this peace—
to walk down
to where two sunflowers
stand patiently, awaiting
with smiles and open arms
Poem by Austin Amaya
Austin Amaya is a young writer based in Seattle, Washington. After graduating from the University of Redlands with a B.S. in Environmental Science and a B.A. in Anthropology, he served two years in the Peace Corps stationed in Paraguay where his adventures as a writer flourished.