On Prophetic Guidance

Flowers turning away, arrogantly, from the sun

welt, young and naive, and

the sun's path quivers not

if some refuse to follow its way, stiff.

Those yielding to its guiding rays

with the humbleness of a yearning student

knowing how - much -  he knows not,

earn its title: sunflower.

Soaking the light of wisdom, the sunflower

grows tall and spreads its seeds for generations more,

but those growing off of

the reflections off of

the yellow wrinkled petals will remain in the shadows,

not knowing the taste of warm kisses on their leaves.

Sunflowers don't wait for the night to seek

a star out of a billion, far, small, illusively alive

when they have the one that outshines all

into petty non-existence.

- shz 010617


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