A sunflower
Sways in the wind,
Gentle and compassionate,
Most of all to their kin.
Follows the day-star,
Soaks up its gentle rays
Beautiful, brilliant,
In their own unique way.
They're the wonder of a handprint
Left imprinted on a cave,
They're the ancient, foggy memories
The ancestors gave.
They're proud, exceedingly,
For their wisdom, just and kind.
They're a lord of the land-
The wind, the lake, the sky.
They're the warmth every cat ambles
Toward,
Their smile a cup of tea,
The familiarity of a great novel
You always long to re-read.
They're a hearth,
Ever sharing their soul,
To keep the people content.
They're a story whispered in the dark,
One you never want to end.
They're the strength of Joan,
Stoic and calm,
Courageous where least expected,
But needed the most.
Tactful and powerful,
A force behind a sword.
Poison in a tea cup,
Efficient with a pen.
They're the pleasant pastry
You want everyone in town to know,
They leave the world a better place
No matter where they go.
They understand so much more
Than ever could be told,
Not in thought or word,
But tone of soul.
They're a sea shanty and the burn of rum
Tickling down the back of a salty throat,
Unforgettable, immaculate,
The stuff of tales of old.
Piles of treasure
Ne'er could they replace-
They're so many multitudes
In such a finite space.
Their laugh is that of birdsong,
Their wit that of a bard,
Their mannerisms jovial
Before they've even said a word.
Their quiet one of contemplation,
Their ebullience a stunning feat,
Without them,
Our universe would surely fall
to the calloused hands
Of entropy.
Scarves and mittens and softly fallen snow,
Good grades and luck and pennies all aglow,
And cats with tiny paws,
And memes of Tumblr kind,
Symmetry and laughter intertwined.
Fate should turn her head in shame,
And God be struck down,
Were she to damage a single hair
Upon their blessed brow.
I've met many a false-God,
Many a devil,
Many an angel, winged and feathered,
I've seen planets
Stars, galaxies away
I would trade it all for just a day,
My sibling oh sibling,
Be that the roles we play,
I believe.
Wholeheartedly,
In many a thing.
None more so than you.
Yes, if I had a choice
There'd be none at all,
I'd take a bullet to the head,
Rend my own flesh,
As long as your security
Could be bought with my soul.
Submitted: February 04, 2021
© Copyright 2021 Thalia Bronwen. All rights reserved.
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