Christ of the Sunflower

Across the dappled grass I called you

Unhurried in the evening glow

To down your tools and stand before me

In simple presence, freed of stone

And learn the language of the slow

No sadness that my solar fire

Conceals the fade of life’s profusion

Far more than this awaits the gaze

That lifts the veil of summer’s end

And sees beyond decay’s illusion

I gaze at you who stares at me

Called by my petalled story

For in my flower, full spread for you

And in the art of mind and eye

Lies method to renew your glory

No rite attends this start of fading

Save life is brought to nature’s peak

But hear the stillness build around you

As, caught, you lose the self you carry

And into my eyes your eyes speak

Now lost in red and golden moment

A stolen silence takes its hold

Who gave his eyes sees face in face

Uniting they who formed and made us

Until our opening would unfold

Across the dappled grass you called me

Unhurried in the evening Sun

To down my tools and stand before you

In simple presence, freed of stone

And learn the language of the One.

©Stephen Tanham