Why Become Sunflower? - May 24, 1997

Dedicated to Barbara and Thomas
and the much loved babies, Jan and Lisa.

Why have I become, so in love with the sum
Of each and every, SunFlower heavenly
Seed, stem and flower; root, leaf and tower-
ing image of SunFlower dear?

Is it because, I once saw with pause,
True love finding love, like the Sun above?
When Barbara and Thomas, said their vows at their mass;
I was so moved that day, I heard myself say:
That it was my wedding day.

Embarrassed by this, slip of my kiss;
I dismissed it as just, excitement and fuss.
But could it just be, that my soul did then see
Real love in the hearts, to make whole all their parts?

Which now is my vision, to soar like the wind,
Above all the trees, although on bended knees.
I am with my tears, to know that all these years;
That really I looked, I baked and I cooked
For such an embrace, and only found traces
Of it out there, to hold and to share.

But all of the time, I ignored the kind
Of person I was, the love in my claws;
That scratched and then scared, myself unprepared
For holding her tight. My claws gave a fright.

We couldn't understand, the lay of the land,
Or how to get there, to love and to care;
For more than a time. Though we tried to bind
By physical force, like a bit on a horse;
To break its spirit, and make it come near it.
But losing the foal, of wholeness the goal.

Now I see clearly, and can hold dearly
The hurt little boy, who loved his first toy.
And all the women, and girls who befriend-
ed him in the dance, of love and romance.

The steps were complex, and seemingly hexed,
But the witches stew, a recipe that grew
The understanding heart, to rip it apart,
To have it stay alive, like bees from the hive.

By stinging the skin, to remind us within
That the mind and the groin, are opposite the coin.
And between the faces, are other places
That must exist, for the value to enlist.

And the heart is between, the mind and the spleen.
The gonads don't drive, this whole beehive.
And neither the brain, no matter the pain,
Can wholeness attain, without heart's rain.

For without the rain, it's desert and plain.
Just Death Valley day's, in scorching haze;
With my mouth dry, unable to cry.
And no lush rain forest, to nurture the nest.

A mechanical beast, without any yeast
To ferment the stew, and let sky to be blue.
A machine needs creator, but life creating is greater.
For rust, dust and gravity; are like men's depravity.

They stop the machine, and then the heart's scream
Is silenced forever, with no stormy weather;
To archetypal express, the painful duress
That if I could feel, in grief I would kneel.

So why the SunFlower? Was it their tower-
ing love that I felt? And my heart I did melt?
That no longer in ice, my heart could take its place
Between head and penis, and then to the finish?

Barbara's love for her groom, and for SunFlower's bloom,
Became in my eyes, the key to be wise.
I'll become a SunFlower; roots, stems, leaves
And then tower.

And perhaps maybe then, in the meadow or glen
I'll shoot for the sky, almost butterfly.
And with vigor and flourish, my countenance nourish,
I'll open with grace; the beautiful face --

With yellow like fire, my purpose aspire:
To help free all the spirits, of my fellow creatures.
So all can then fly, and all hearts can then cry.
And all be connected, the longing corrected.

If I can become, the SunFlower's son
And daughter also, and all of us glow;
Then beautiful souls, like Barbara might enfold
Me into their arms, their love I did charm.

So this is the why, I reach for the sky:
To persuade love there, for my heart to care.
I feel some sheepish, admitting this wish,
And long for a way, for human to stay.
So I don't require, an impossible desire.
And I might find her where, a human could dare
To be me.....


Why Become Sunflower?
May 24, 1997
by Loveson G. Flower
at home in Woodside, CA
photos by Loveson G. Flower at Les Zeribas in Summer, 2007.

Although over 10 years old, this Heart Song is placed 2nd as it explains deep motivations for beginning and continuing along the Sunflower inspired path.




Traduction Anglais-Français fait automatiquement avec aide des outils linguistic de Google. Pour voir la traduction plus grande, cliquez sur le page blanc.

Translation English-French automatically made with help from linguistic tools of Google. To see the translation larger, click on the white page.

Smelly Creatures with Ugly Features

Dedicated to all the disowned parts
inside, the stories of hurt children.

Lost. Abandoned. Wanting to come home.
Afraid of more the same. Trying to stop that game.
But knowing nothing else. Developed a chalice
To deal somehow with pain.

Trying to transform, the doer of the deed,
And this became the seed; of a longing, a need;
A hole inside the soul. A detour from the goal....
.....Of whole.

And as the growing came, this part stayed the same.
But usually in shame. Hidden again to gain;
Approval from the doer.

Like rats in the sewer, they live with the lice.
Thinking it is nice, that I'm alive at all.
And wouldn't it appall, all to shed the light
Down here where, there are smelly creatures
With ugly features, who tried to make it right.
Who haven't died yet from fright.

After all, the call to die, was really just a lie,
Sent from one afraid, to live with debts all paid.
Who couldn't see the love, shining through above,
or now way down below, where smelly creatures grow.

So can we now allow, the creatures out to plow;
new furrows in the earth, of our hearts and mirth?
So that they can express, their wisdom of the mess,
that our souls need to pay, to come to love today?

And not some distant day, when its too late to play,
and all the creatures dear, have drowned in their own tears;
Far too old to say, what's needed to form the clay,
to mold a new fresh way, the demons then to slay.

The creatures after all,
were just loving parts to call,
Attention to heal the pain.
Again.....again....again....


Smelly Creatures with Ugly Features
by Loveson G. Flower
5/24/97

Don't Make It Wrong

Dedicated to, with love from, my Heart Song.


Let's synthesize an information system to paint all the parts. Let them sing, dance, laugh, interact in archetypal ways. Symbols for health. Find true wealth. Not some new toy, But to find joy, look for the quest-ion, that matches the other +ion,

Jump planes to new. Find the glue that cements all us, without a fuss; The whole can move, in the new groove; Consistently, not insistently; But with permission, and in remission; the tendency for redundancy; And wasted efforts, and even torts and laws to hold us back.

Our love to sack. Preventing growth. Ignoring truth before our eyes; Under the guise of being "good," and all the shoulds, but not coulds. Just woulds. Out of the woods into the plain, finding the same-ness in all things; the wholeness rings; anew like sweet bells,

That tolling swells and vibrates ear, to bring me here; and not away, For there to stay; lost in time. Forgot to rhyme, to switch the tune, Amidst the room, and finding gloom, go further still, way down the hill; Instead of up, to fill our cup, with loving sup--per, and fresh fruit,

My whistle toot. Sweet, sweet songs: Don't make it wrong! Let it come. You're finding home. This is the way. It is OK. Try to hold the love, in our hearts glove. Because one day; By letting me say, these expressions, the old questions,

Can come to fruition. And the tuition is worth the cost; even if lost for many years and many fears, in searching there, and over here. To find the Way, like bough to sway, and almost break; We still can make, our heart's dear wish: a bountiful dish

Of love a plenty. There isn't any, rock we can't uncover. To be a lover; Of one and all. Let's answer the call, for wholeness true. Red, green or blue; colors don't matter. We'll fill the platter With what we find; and hope in kind; that somehow there; With loving care, a Rainbow we will find.






Don't Make It Wrong
by Loveson G. Flower
5/21/97
"Rainbow" by Loveson G. Flower

Ode to Uli, My Hero

Dedicated to Uli on his 60th Birthday

For a dear friend, on a path to mend
The heart and mind split, and never to quit,
I say: Thank you, Uli; for your laughter and company.
Along our heart walks, and for all of our talks;

About truth and woes, and how our life goes.
Rushing down the stream; now whispers, now screams;
No matter the place, your happy, kind face
Brings a warm glow, and helps me to know:

That you are a man, who we know that you can;
Push your way though, the impossible stew
Of depression and sad. Of this we are glad.
For Uli, you deserve; happiness to preserve.

And not to ignore, Life's difficult chore:
To meet all the parts, and integrate hearts;
With mind and the body, that sometimes we leave shoddy;
Along life's dizzying pace, the awful rat race.

So easy to forget, one part of the net
Sum whole, and, thereby; Individuation won't fly.
This Ode to Uli, though perhaps a bit silly;
Is sent with my love, and a prayer to Above:

That the rest of your days, whether too sane or in craze;
Will find that your boat, will always float.
And allow you to dip, beneath Ocean's lip;
To find clear emotion, and not salve and lotion.

To try and ignore, and struggle for shore
But to feel all life's pain; to integrate again.
For once we were whole; and still may our goal
To be One like a baby; to be Whole my dear, Uli.

Thanks Uli. Love, Paul

PS. You must have been a beautiful embryo;
For did I tell you you're my hero?


Ode to Uli, My Hero
by Loveson G. Flower
5/17/97