Sunflowers

The sun repeats itself day by day
in love with clouds embrace
for to get the adored touch
in crossing the sky it isn't too much
scared by the creatures below
far from where life blows.
There aren't stains
without the shame
that will remains
over the smell of rain.
Is the rain only
what we want.
The shiny lymph
we need to grow
until the sky the birds we dare
onto the sun our fingers are straight.

Addicted to life
like sunflowers to the ground
eternally we turn our faces to the sun.
So blind cries are songs
of a deaf existence
disciplined in repetition.

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