A few days after I planted my neat and tidy, as-they-should-be rows, a scattering of sunflowers sprouted their heads through the earth after slumbering all winter.Â
Out of place, I let them be.Â
They wildy outstretched themselves through the onions, carrots, and beets. Reaching daily towards the sun, working their way up over half my height, in June.Â
Out of bounds, out of order, making the rules up as they go. As they grow.Â
Thriving.
I always knew I liked sunflowers.Â
Let me be like the light. Rising early at the start of the day, steady against the wind strong, sure. I will dance on water, weave myself in and out of wildflowers dress and bathe and kiss the earth b
There is much to be said about how you look when you wake at 4 am. You pull clothes on in the dark; mismatched socks. You choke down breakfast--dry and crumbly, as you drive through what is left of ni
The day is weary, done-- but the light, has so much left to give. It flickers through the forming shadows, spills out of the clouds like warm honey melting from the sky. I want to catch every last dro
