They begin as all green living things do,
Sprouting from the earth in soft shoots of green.
Powered by the light, they reach for the sky,
Stretching tall toward the passing clouds.
Their buds widen and bloom into golden crowns,
Yellow petals encircling the heavy head of seed—
Just as a mother cradles her children in need.
The sunflower reigns as the royalty of the garden,
Rising up to match the height of a human frame.
One can only marvel at its glorious, golden power—
The flower of the Kansas soil,
The one my mother loved so.
Courtney Bosworth's Blog 