The Sun and Her Flowers

I'm so glad that I picked up The Sun and Her Flowers. I've slowly been reading more poetry over the last couple years. I had, of course, heard of Milk and Honey. It was on the Bestseller's list, bookish people were talking about it, my cousins were talking about it. Then, Rupi Kaur published another book. People were excited. When I saw The Sun and Her Flowers looking up at me from a display table, I felt I had to read it. I hadn't heard much about the new book yet, as it had not been as hyped as the first. Though since purchasing, I've been seeing more and more about it.

I connected with The Sun and Her Flowers, enjoying the words, the structure, the images. I've read that people are not sure that it is actually a book of poetry. I can see why they might think that. Rupi Kaur writes about being the child of immigrants, relationships, and discovering herself. They could easily be topics or sections in a memoir. There is memoir in Kaur's words. To me, however, The Sun and Her Flowers is poetry, even if you count the entire book as one long illustrated poem, the poem of her life.

There kept being short passages, moments, that I had to share. So, I Instagrammed them. They connected with me, the whole book did, the struggles that Kaur goes through. How often do we compare ourselves and our paths to others? I know I do all the time. As a mother, friend, daughter, writer, reader, and so many other ways, I have compared myself to others. How can I be there for my children more? Is my husband happy with me? Why aren't I writing more? Why can't I read as much as all these other people?

Kaur reflects on immigration, focusing much on the journey of her mother. It made my wonder about my own parents, particularly my mother (though both from Trinidad, my parents met here in Canada). From the stories they've told me, my father did all right. It was still difficult, but he wasn't sheltered the way my mother had been. My mother was the youngest and a girl. I also wonder about the difficulties her mother faced. She was a single mother bringing her children to a new country, leaving a place where, from what I can tell, her husband had been beloved (he died in a car accident when my mother was seven). They are powerful words indeed to make me thing about all these things.

The Sun and Her Flowers is a book I can see myself coming back to over and over again. It is a book I could just let live at my bedside or on my desk. A book where I can just randomly open a page and read a few words. A book full of words to meditate on, consider, question and inspire. I look forward to reading more of Kaur's work.