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Where Sun Gods Go


Science has proven the sun to be a nova of radiation,

a ball of gas a million millions away,
 
supposedly closing the awestruck speculation
 
over gods who would bring the day.
 
 
 
But where do these gods go?
 
Their shrines empty, their temples gone,
 
in the days when being in the know
 
is more important than prayer and song.

 

Does Ra rest regally in the halls of the dead?
 
Does Nanahuatzin still burn?
 
Do Apollo and Helios share meals on Olympus's head?
 
Has Sol yet had her daughter?

 

Perhaps they live among the common folk,
 
testing the limits of mortal power.
 
They might bestow light and sight and fate's great yolk
 
on those who would listen for an hour.

 

Or maybe they dissolved into stars,
 
bringing us more constellations and maps.
 
No longer the light that nurtures and chars,
 
but the blanket under which humanity naps

 

Well, they say humans are made of stardust,
 
and I think I've met the sun before.
 
In the eyes of my best friend, in a sword covered in rust,
 
in a man on the street, and in my own core.

 

The sun was here before us and it will be here after
 
but our hearts assign it meaning,

whether that be battle or laughter,

dim twilight or midday gleaming.

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