For Whom The Sun Rises

Early on in the month, I asked you to write a valediction — a poem of farewell (I chose to skip this one). Today, let’s try the opposite, and write poems of greeting. There’s lots of things you could greet. The spring? Your new stapler? A favorite classmate? An addition to the menu at your local cafe? The subject’s up to you — now get out there and say “hello!”

HELLO!
I scream, I shout, I jump up and about,
I twist, I tap, I turn and slap
My thighs! But why?
It’s that golden hour!
When the sun peeks out and shines through the sky
And the light bursts forth and hits your eye,
You can’t think sad thoughts even if you tried
Because yesterday’s worries get burnt away
And you’re a tabula rasa every single day
Like moths to a flame, we look up and see
The fire that fuels our hungry trees,
And colors the world in perfect melody,
And shines the light it’s shined for centuries,
With streaks of light left indelibly
Like parade jets that fly synchronously,
With a glow that purges all disease
That blazes through the clouds pugnaciously
And tingles the skin of the warm bodied
While conquering darkness temporarily.
This is what I think of when I see you
A universal Mother, without you
This ball of water wouldn’t have formed
My eternal thanks for sharing your warmth.
And as you blaze in your resplendent glory
Revolving around me as I rotate beneath you
Loneliness is a stranger to me
And The Beatles were all right.

Good morning, sun!

Attribution: Kanyakumari Sunrise.jpeg by Gopinath Sivanesan, CC-BY-SA-3.0

(NaPoWriMo 2013 #17)

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “For Whom The Sun Rises

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s