The Sunflower above the sun,
Above the rainy clouds,
Too high to be with anyone
Too silent for the loud

This Sunflower just couldn't stoop
To get some healthy light,
For lost it stayed in its own maze
Of shining starry nights.

However much its dear ones
Cried, that only sunlight works;
That pretty stars won’t help and that
They know up there death lurks—

“I find myself perfectly fine,”
It said, lifting a leaf,
“My special star will come one day
And save me far from grief.”

And years it waited, wilting there,
Surrounded by the space,
But yet the so-called special star
Just would not show its face.

And that is how the Sunflower died
With starvation and woe;
And when they laid it gently down
A lake of sad tears flowed.

Then one day when the sunflower
Was buried under snow,
The night was dark; the ice was soft,
And then a magic show.

Shimmering like the heaven lights,
An aurora approached;
Warmly embraced the Sunflower
That glowed from head to toe.

From that day on the falling stars
Would turn more towards the Earth,
To find the faithful Sunflower
Who'd been so loyal first.