The world were a figurative poem
And tomorrow I could strip away all the violent metaphors
And replace them with baskets of sunflowers
That would be singing the Ukranian national anthem
In downtown Kyiv with an orchestra playing
As they stood strong, with their green stems
Softly genuflecting in the wind, twisting westward
And triumphantly righting themselves, growing tall and proud
If only allowed, if only allowed
With so many gifts to give
To grow, to thrive, to live, to live
And as we watch a storm ravish the sunflower field
We have to ask ourselves, could we be a shield?
If so, how, and then when?
We may not have this opportunity again.
To save the field from the plague of despair
To nurture the blossoms and show that we care
Standing by just doesn’t feel right
As the storm ravages on night after night
Praying to God with hope for salvation and light
To nurture the sunflowers and protect them all
As the might of an evil wind grows, don’t let them fall.
For they shine for us all, as with dignity, they continue to stand tall.