Smile that sunflower smile, I love to see your beaming face, eyes closed and the rosy glow. Oh, come on! Remember those winters how we huddled to be in direct sunlight… warmth of the burning star touched our souls, and we smiled.
Peeping through the bushes, the sunlight always made me feel like I am in a photograph – yet to be taken.
While the tiny white daisies were busy decorating and tackling the mad wind, blushing, swaying and often taunting it for impeding their progress, the sunflowers stayed glued like a crayon drawing on the wall, letting the sun seep within.
Seeing the clouds approach, the sunflowers never trembled or rebuked the sky’s spongy friends… for the sunflowers could feel the presence of that warm burning star, part of it now stored inside them.
Maybe that’s why sunflowers’ signature reads ‘Forever’ rather than their glowing name. Oh, how lovely!
Now just smile that sunflower smile, I love to see your beaming face, eyes closed and the rosy glow.
- Regina Spektor’s Musical World and the Assured Presence of the Antiquity – Part II
- Regina Spektor’s Musical World and the Ephemeral Moments of Joy – Part I
- The Old Fortune-Teller’s Special Offer
- The Thousand Faces of Night – A Charcoal-Inked Raga
- Avicenna and the Turning Wheel