In the middle of the splendor stands a dead sunflower, blooms now bowed and blackened with decay. The glory transpires all around it, but the sunflower is oblivious. His day has come and gone, and at his height of glory, he was also beautiful. He was stunning and a glory to behold. At his zenith, he displayed brilliance and boldness and beauty. Now he is drying and rotting and all but forgotten.
|The sunflower as he falls.|
But do not spare your pity for him, for that would only anger and humiliate him as he drifts off into nothingness. Do not let his last regard be one of sympathy or sorrow. He knew he would have his day, and he knew he would shrivel and die. He has carried out his death as splendidly and nobly as he carried out his life. To not appreciate and love him for his death would be a terrible and ignorant insult.
The splendor all around him, which shines and proclaims the glory of the universe, will also reach its zenith and die in obscurity. The world doesn’t need us to remind it that life is fleeting. It is we who need the world to remind us of such things. So gather the beauty while you can. Shine and radiate your glory to the four corners of the Earth. And then bow your head gracefully like the sunflower. To do otherwise would be to display a misunderstanding of the beauty of un-becoming.