The Sun and the Sunflower

He is the sun, I am the bloom, His light is my life, my heart's quiet room. In the stillness of dawn, I turn to his gaze, A dance of devotion, beyond words, beyond praise. He rises alone, yet I am not far, For in his warmth, I am who I are. I seek no answer, no question to ask, But to simply exist beneath his task. His fire is eternal, mine is a spark, In his brilliance, I leave my mark. Though I am small and he is grand, I reach for him, as though I understand. In the silence between his rays, I grow, His light unseen, yet all I know. In his absence, I wait, patient and still, For his return, to fill me, to heal. He does not speak, nor do I require, Yet in his glow, I burn with fire. I am not whole without his light, And he is not bright without my sight. We are two halves of a cosmic dance, Bound by a love that needs no chance. He is the sun, I am the flower, We are the same, both built of power. A fleeting moment, a timeless flow, He is the reason I continue to grow. And though he is distant, far and high, I am his reflection, reaching the sky.