Nakang Mashilo Poet Free verse

A Sunflower Among Roses

In the original garden, before the lines were drawn,
where everything bloomed without permission or pretense,
I found my place—
not in the quiet conformity of red petals and sharp thorns,
not lined up in immaculate, predictable rows of classic roses,
but standing tall, unbothered, turning my face directly to the sun.

I am a sunflower in a garden built for velvet.
Broad-leafed and wild, holding the gold of noon in my chest,
a radiant, unyielding burst of yellow
shattering the polite coolness of the shade.

I bring warmth into cold rooms.
Where air has turned heavy and still,
where conversations freeze and frost settles on the glass,
I am the sudden, unexpected heat,
the hearth fire in human form,
melting the edges of frozen spaces just by walking in.

I am the breeze across a vast lavender farm,
a gentle, invisible hand moving through purple fields,
catching the quiet scents that sit hidden in the leaves
and lifting them, carrying them outward,
sweeping sweet tranquility across the open air,
stirring what was still, setting fragrance in motion.

And when the sun sets and the day grows quiet,
I am a sweet, unassuming daisy tucked in the grass,
simple, pure, and patient,
waiting softly in the morning dew
to be picked and placed tenderly into the hands
of the world’s most beautiful princess.

I belong to the whole untamed earth—
the fire of the sun, the spirit of the wind,
the comfort of the hearth, and the sweetness of the bloom.
In every version of Paradise,
I am living light, moving freely, completely myself.

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