In the wind
The sunflowers quiver
Bright yellow disks shiver
 
And bow to the birds
And the birds consume
And the disks are gone
 
Birds chirp and do not care
They are beings of the air
 
Sunflower seeds fall to earth
Next spring, they bring new birth.
 
The cycle then resumes,
Next spring birds,
Resplendendent with new plumes.