Sunflowers for Grandpa by Alyssa Wong

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Long ago
even before I was born,
the flowers withered and drifted away-
the petals of my grandfather.

I was two,
at such a naïve age, 
I walked into the cemetery
for the first time
my Dad bought a bouquet of sunflowers
as I grasped it in hand,
not knowing the difference between
life and death,
as he pushed the pram.

The sun, crawling through
the gaps of the sheltered trees
to kiss the tombstone
on its polished pebble grey surface.
simple, extravagant, slanted,
there were many of them.

“Hey Daddy…what are these?”
I ask through unfiltered innocence.
he looked at the grave stones 
then back at me.
With a bittersweet smile.
“They’re for when the petals dissolve”

Being a naïve kid,
I wasn’t the brightest.
I didn’t know what he meant 
but I went to put the sunflowers in the jar.
such simple mindedness.

Now, I no longer have to stand on my tippy toes 
to seem tall
and I now understand why the petals dissolve
but even over time, 
I still can’t however, obtain the real knowledge
of what my grandfather was like.

Was he funny?
Was he kind?
Of course, I can ask my dad what he was like 
but it’s not the same as interacting with him myself.
The bridge of life and death separates us.

The cemetery is a garden of the departed,
where the sunflowers stand as silent sentinels,
each petal that falls is a memory,
each sunflower, a testament to a life lived.
it is a library of souls,
where the sunflowers are the books,
and the petals are the pages,

The sunflowers still stand, silently speaking,
Though time has blurred
The petals may dissolve, yet memories stay,
In the sunflowers’ golden glow, my grandfather’s memories are here to stay.

Hey grandpa, the sunflowers are about to bloom again.

Image by Nikolett Emmert from Pexels

The Majesty of Life by Stefan Nicholson

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Nature’s jewel shines not only upon the finger ring but within each glance,
where we see everything that sways the senses,
calms the breath and feeds the inner soul from birth to death
with riches far beyond the tools of man – displayed within the beauty of a delicate plan.

Imagine a whale’s journey or the migration of wild herds,
for the majesty of life cannot be explained in simple words. 

Just compare Earth’s night sky with moon and sprinkled stars,
to the mountains and rivers, oceans deep and tree-lined bays with bars.
And see that a common hand has touched each one
with fresh palette, to follow once each season has almost gone.

It seems there is a cyclic spell, yet with random chance of change
to make sea and lake become cloud and rain – sand and fire to mountain range.  
Lands of greens and browns with sky and sea of different blues
perceived by using light and dark, combining waves of special hues. 

And for each breath we take from the very time we’re born,
we feel the trees return a breath refreshed, starting every early morn.

Rainy days, summer afternoons, winter nights and stormy seas,
misty rain breathing on faces like a cool light-hearted tease.
Resonance feeding between the physical and imagined thoughts
which we keenly perceive and cherish and keep safe within our forts.

All this splendour is a wonder from some far, far distant throne,
which we accept lightly far too often with blind familiarity, as if we’re all alone.

There is strength in idle thoughts like a daydream coming true,
making sense of an unknowing, providing firm belief on cue.  
Visualising both origin and destiny as like the random path of man
exposing seeds of calculation as part of this grand majestic plan.

So, rejoice each child who falters, yet gets up each time they fall,
for they will spend a lifetime learning secrets, to why there is majesty at all.

The Colour of Life by Toni Newell

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Green strokes on paper
Underneath the blue
Depicting a rain forest
Greens of different hue.

Nature’s bountiful
Beautiful and clean
The foundation of life
And very often green.

Green symbolizes life
Producing oxygen
Which keeps us all alive
The world and mortal men.

Green’s pleasant to the eye
Calming and free
Covering mountains,
Shimmering from a tree.

The colour green’s alive
It’s vibrant and lush
And beautifully captured
By strokes with a brush.

Photo by Pixabay