Sunflower — Photo-Artistry by kenne
THE CAPTURE OF MR. SUN
The sun is a lion
circling his cage.
Caught for you, brought for you
on this wheeled stage.
Through fixed bars glaring
his wrath and his rage
Like a pen for the baby
or bedrails in old age.
The lion is a sunflower
with a broad gold face.
Its pedals outstreaming
like a mane or the rays
Of that candescent Power
we all watch pace
Through the gendering heavens
on its circuit of days.
The flower is tracing
the sun on its rounds;
The carnival moves through
its orbit of towns;
The lion’s cage rolls
your streets up and down
Where he pads and we shiver
at his smile, his frown.
— from W.D.’s Midnight Carnival by W. D. Snodgrass
Becoming is Superior to Being 
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