Photo by Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris Photo by Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-FerrisPhoto by Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-FerrisPhoto by Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
As summers heat dissipates leading seasons end to fall The flowers I diligently guarded against pestilence and drought are withering now to ground
Yet I have no fear this time next year out of the rich soil they all will sprout For perennials are all I plant counting on their redivivus nature one hundred plus next spring
The large Group of Sunflowers turned in unison. Their many flowered discs always hungry for the sun, always looking forward, always wanting more.
What came before meant little to the tall proud stalks, impervious to why they were clustered together by the thousands; all in concise neat rows, all nearly the same height and same size.
All that is, except one. This little sunflower was not as tall, not as big and not as stiff as his brethren. The multitude of flowers he held protectively in in his disc were – special. Different. Smaller yes, but instead of greedily eating up the light to strengthen his position in the Group, he reflected the light back to aid his brothers and sisters in their growth.
When the sun moved across the sky from morning to night, the littlest sunflower took great delight reading the shadows left behind, the histories, the stories of what was and how they had come to be. Naturally, the rest of the Group made fun of him. They taunted him with unkind words, name-calling and general guffaws at his lack of commitment at being a true Sunflower.
The little Sunflower just smiled, knowing in his heart that sharing light was much better than hoarding it.
It so happened that Summer was coming to an end. The Group all faced away from the huge farmhouse and the massive harvesting machine driven by the farmer. They did not see it coming, they could not. All except one, was so intent on filling their own light coffers, they had no warning at all.
Except for the little voice of the smallest Sunflower who called out as loud as he could,
“Umm Guys! Guys duck!”
Of course they couldn’t duck, they couldn’t bend, they couldn’t so much as turn their heads back to see what was coming.
The flexible little Sunflower could duck and that’s just what he did. The heavy machine passed right over him with clanks, bangs and squeaks. When he looked up, the Group was all but gone, leaving him standing alone in an empty field. Or, was that another tiny Sunflower lifting it’s happy leaves to wave at him across the barren landscape?
Gypsie’s Wonderful World of Words 