Sunday, April 11, 2010

April 11 -- Ode to the Sun

Millions of mile away

you burn.

A shiny pinpoint on

the velvet darkness of space.

Another number (G2V)

in a numbered galaxy.

But to us, not just some

luminescent ball of gas.

Our one.

Our only.


Morningstar, with many names

Sol, Helios, Surya, Ra

you blaze and scorch and shine and kiss

and melt your way into our lives

radiating through even the tiniest chinks.

We adore you.

Nay we worship you.

All the world’s flora crane their necks

to follow your gaze horizon to horizon.

We mourn your absence

even for a night

(our satellite purveying only

cold recycled light).

And when you hide for days on end

behind a curtain of clouds,

we wither disconsolate in disappointment.

One wink from you is the road to pure bliss.

We, the inhabitants of your blue

and green planet, one of your octet,

(unless you count Pluto)

know we are different.

Why else the water, trees, flowers,

grass, bees, bugs, pollen, bacteria,

landscapes teeming with life?

Your constancy is a mask

we see through, like the little ways

you show appreciation. Your tricks charm us

like the one where you bend your white rays

over our sky in an arch or two of color

showing us the full spectrum of your affection,

or when you blaze through the gases of atmosphere

bathing us in your glow before you depart.

You hide your feelings well

and if we could look behind

your splendidly brilliant corona

we know what we would find …

our one

our only

life-giving Sun.

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