
Sundust
Twirling into the light
Like white light escaping a black hole, those stamen — fuzzed with sunshine yellow dust — explode from the center point of the flower’s womb.
Do they anticipate the tickle of a bee’s tiny feet?
Do they think such things?
Do flowers think at all?
For daily, hourly, they grow, twirling into the light which pours into their cores, as they explore the world beyond their birthplace, perhaps hoping to regenerate and populate the garden with their progeny.
Are they so different, really, than we, as a species in this regard?
So, why is it so hard for some people to believe that flowers can see, and that bees can need to feel the sundust on their toes?
Sundust, read by the author:





