Brilliant diadem, suspended in void
bemused by your children, a veteran
dreaming the old glories when other suns
were born. Round as all things round, bright
like fire spewed from molten radiation,
you dance, an ancient volcano erupting longer
than life on Earth. Sol, you are a favorite pet
the Little Prince would admire and tend
with love and loyalty. Seen or remembered,
you have earned our subtle admiration,
pensive and warm, an aura against darkness.
Earth shares you with an occasional comet,
sister planets, moons that hang in halves
or quarters in shadows of sleepless explosions.
Swing concentrically like waves from a stone
casually tossed into calm water. The Earth
knows. Sol has come to spend its time with us.
Sunrise ignites clouds with hues of fire,
moonrise brings the sun back, welcome
as an old friend's eventual returning. Earthrise,
unseen by the earth bound, is subjected
by astronautic lenses. Blue with water,
your third born declares in terrible cliche:
I can not exist without you.
allets
06-12-12