Hey, let us not be so hasty,
let us not be so rash.
Instead, let us flow with the sun and the wind
entwined as one,
woven with thrice strands,
a plaiting of joyous warmth, breeze, and cheer
neatly entangled by a pair of deft, invisible hands.
I admire the sun for the effort she makes each day,
no matter how low or despondent she may feel,
she always rises for us,
no matter anything, she won’t allow the world to weigh her down.
Nothing troublesome seems to cross her path,
or get in her way,
she is never dismayed, at least not visibly
but into confused darkness we may be thrust
when considering what lies in the heart of another
when we don't know precisely what causes their pain, joy, ecstasy, or sorrow.
The sun always brings a burning intensity,
if we were to bring ourselves
close enough to the fair maiden,
we too could experience her true potential of expression
though, she insists on brightening the way for her king,
she selects the path of righteousness; she promotes his healthy well-being.
Sun shines her cordiality onto the path which is set
for a man of great mystery,
perhaps of deep melancholy
but someone definitely dusted with
the makings of luminescent mastery,
make way now, it is evening, it's time to introduce
the Man of the Moon.
She and he share the same skies during the light of day, but at night,
his lost lover is nowhere to be seen, she has upped and away.
His misery at being permitted nary a moment with her,
only observing Sun during the clouded skies from afar,
a teasing of his heart which
miserably plucks at guitar strings,
breaking the strums into dismayed delayed arpeggios
rather than solid ringing chords.
Heartbroken, the Man of the Moon waits for her all night,
glowing hopefully, yearning, silently begging
for her to rise and turn her wondrous face his way,
but then the night winds to an end,
erasing any fervent hope, now an empty lull in his heart,
he will reposition himself where he now belongs,
and soon, Sun returns to the blue skies,
just out of reach from her admiring love.
Let us not be so hasty, I repeat in a whisper,
let us explore the beauty of this day and morning,
again with wild abandon,
because while time now seems so slow
it is succinct in its fleeting moments and is amazingly precious,
don’t allow these days to pass us by,
I want to remember our times
when our hearts were as broad
as Sun's grinning orange-quartered mouth,
filled with the tartness of freshly squeezed juice
and the vitality of our youth.
The sun smiles down upon us and gives me
a mischievous wink as though she wholeheartedly agrees.
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Tarishart from Pixabay
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