Sun God

We still worship the Sun
after so many untold centuries
because it is the god we can see
because it is the god we can feel
Rays of light nourishing life
Rays of light warming our skin
When sunlight breaks through
grey skies we rejoice at this
simple act of strength

Even this night will fade
Even this sun will rise

I wake to morning
Sounds of wind and birds in trees
Sun smiling on me

Ignorance blinds us

Dare we stare into the sun

Look at the noon sky

Capturing the light from the Sun.

Pagan Sun

Ask if I love you

Does the Sun long for the Moon

Tides brushing the shore

Notebook Dump #7

I fall awake with great difficulty most mornings but I am glad to do so while I can. Mornings move swifter than I do and quickly rush me in to afternoon. Afternoons are never in a hurry and are quite content to laze about as long as the sun holds her place above. Afternoon and Evening meet at the far edge of the horizon where the ocean and sky blur into a singular being. They trade off duties as the Moon ascends to her rightful place as she permits us to gaze upon her pocked white face. Her blemishes only increase her beauty as she travels across the sky like a car full of teenagers down the boulevard on a Friday night. She guides us into unconscious tranquility and whispers to us in the faintest of voices so we wonder what were the words we heard and what could they possibly mean.

tethered

The early morning chill creeps onto my skin
and causes my flesh to bump with geese.

I should close the window but I leave it cast
open wide because otherwise I could not

hear the sounds of the day which is beginning.
The world begins with the dissolving of darkness

from the horizon, sky being painted over in a shifting
palette of pastels, smearing, smudging, lightening

by the movement of the planetary axis. This is
a common miracle we often miss because of sleep,

because we are tired and half awake while preparing
for work and fixing bag lunches for the children

to take to school. The ambient sounds of early morning
peace become subsumed by the restless vigor

of our daily demands, work, and other obligations
that consume the hours of our short time.

The sun is not aware that we orbit around it, or any
of our names. The weight of its being is so great

that it never has the time for details, just the constant
journey for which it burns through infinite darkness.

Gazing Down

The ocean is in no hurry as we stand together,
waiting for the next wave to come.

Cold water washes over our feet, gently pulling
sand beneath us back to depths we cannot see.

Overcast skies watch us through a gray haze,
but what must the Sun think as it sits pendulous

in the heavens, looking down at the swirling
pools of blue surrounding the small pieces

of land some of us call home. Does the Moon
wonder the same things? Or does she see us

as constantly tired creatures, sleeping under
her calm gaze? Perhaps she worries about

those who cannot rest, or those who work
overnight, getting home just in time to miss

the first rays of a new day. How often do
the Sun and Moon embrace? Not often

enough, though they take delight in waves
crossing distances, watching creatures

as helpless as we, holding each other
to create a small fire of warmth.

Dirty Children of the Sun.

Enough Rest

Fall asleep at a reasonable hour,
you're not getting any younger,
the decades are beginning to pile up.

It's not so bad now, yet. You wake
up, clear headed, life is in progress.
There are times when the Sun feels

like a stranger smiling at you as you
walk down the street, so you smile
awkwardly, maybe say hello.

There is no one in the house but you.
It's as silent as you want it to be.
There are dogs barking somewhere,

you can't ignore them as they echo
through suburban canyons. Your body
does not ache or thirst. No pain throbs

through your head, you are ready. For
what? For when? There is only one
person with an answer.