I like to believe that I am a sunflower.
Blooming beautifully and shining with all the grace and poise of a dainty little winged fairy, flitting from petal to petal,
sun rays in my hair and tinkling laughter falling from my pointed shoes;
On these days, I am happy.
I am myself, and I feel on top of my game.
Of course, there are some days
when the sun doesn't look like it's shining;
it doesn't even feel warm.
Where, then, does the sunflower turn
on the days of clouds and rain?
Does it wilt, or close up,
spin around in circles maybe?
I like to believe that I am a sunflower.
In my imagination, sunflowers on rainy days
go on a little hike.
They pull up their roots from the earth,
and start walking in any direction they feel is right.
Sometimes they walk with friends.
Sometimes they feel better alone.
Sometimes, when the sun starts shining again,
they're not in the same field as they once were.
Sometimes they find a familiar, empty flowerbed,
and sometimes they grow in a newly tilled one.
Sometimes they're admired at by people passing by,
and sometimes they're tossed over like a sad, limp vegetable.
And that's okay.
That's okay.
People say that it's okay.
Even when it's not.
Maybe, if I think about it enough times -
it will come true.
That that's okay.
It's okay.
You're okay.
I'm okay.
