Wild Poppies
Is there really a sunflower growing in me?
I think there's millions of wild poppies inside me instead.
For casting my face to the sun was making me blind.
I would rather be smaller and more close to the ground.
Now I greet with a smile all the poppies around me.
They have become part of me and me part of them.
For I can look into their faces alit by the sun.
I am no longer blinded and the wind blows us as one.
And wild poppies are humble and content to be small. We are generous with the blush of joy on our faces.
Like in a formal ball we are waltzing in purple and blue.
Virginal white, pink and gold dancers can be spotted as well.
And wild poppies are hardy; unlike roses we endure.
Yet we are not teachers or preachers with all the answers.
We simply want to see God by getting to know one another.
He turns on the sun that we may find the answers together.