Sun

The essence of life. The center of attraction. Grand titles for just existing. I sit in my finite position, connected to the gravity of you You, the inhabitants of my sister, the protectors of her soul I watch in my breaking of the horizon each morning the breathing of her aging pulse, you The life that courses through her ancient valleys, harvests her spirit, lies in her awaiting bosom It is a beautiful symmetry, the harmonies that resonate from your union is a music indescribable. But I see the pain. I see in the shadows of my set, the lives taken, sacrificed for wretched vice and soul. I can hear her sometimes, crying out in the echoless night how much it hurts. How my light will suffice no more, cannot drive the nightmares away If only she says, if only they could realize how much I love them, how much they should love each other. I try she says, I give them all but its grain to a greedy heart. It’s too quiet. And so I try to dry the tears from her face every day, to see it bloom and renew. Sometimes I think I even hear the faint strings of a melody. But the infinite space consumes such tune and I see her beauty tarnish by the combative pulse within I am too feeble for such a title.