Sunflowers curl over a sea of seeds.
Sprouting and growing, they reach the surface
thinking they will bask in the spotlight -
but they burn, crack, and sigh.
The sea of seeds (now full-grown flowers)
long for a life just like their founder’s
but they suffer from the loss of their life’s power:
No air to breathe, no water to sip -
just flames suffocating (now they’re hung with a drip).
The ones who survive gaze at their meadow:
Once oh so green, now anything but.
The boiling morning and dry midnight
will only get worse with dawn;
tomorrow’s seeds and tomorrow’s sprouts
will never be able to find a way out.
Their birth won’t be a celebration -
their birth will lead to inevitable self-destruction.
Today’s destruction will never be solved
if today's flowers leave the problems unresolved.
Sunflowers curl over a sea of seeds;
Some sleeping, and some fighting for their needs.
Editors: Rajeshwari T., Amber T.
Image source: Unsplash