My Sun

[celestialstuff]

I used to hate the sun...

Harsh, garish, and only safe for people too simple not to want to be seen.

The sun was the stench of artificial coconut hanging heavily on the air at a beach so filthy the water felt like oil.

The sun was rigid, moralistic, claimed by hypocritical religionists who preach "light".

Their sun... it made me miserable.


I loved the night... the darkness, the quiet, and the scarcity of people.

People fear the night. People feared me. That made the night mine.

Since then, I've come to know a different sun...

An ancient sun... older than time and the measurer of it...

A powerful, fierce sun that radiates with such penetrating force it can move the seeds in the ground to push themselves forward to reach for it. Its light calls us to rise from our own 'deaths' every morning of every day.

It is the passion and urge to strive, to change, to burn and burn to death, until you must reach up from deep in the cold, dark ground once again to be reborn...

What maddening dissonance it is to be so keenly aware that your fragile life and that of your entire planet depend upon this furious, out of control thing.

But what a miracle a star is... all the stars... our Mothers and our Fathers... This is our star, our very own.

Tonight I'm pondering the sun, feeling filled with its force, even at night, with rain on my roof... There are suns all over me, amber suns on my finger, around my neck and dangling from my ears... They've been there for years and somehow I'm surprised to see them there now... So many suns! How did they get here? On me, the sun hater?

I'd be lying now, if I said that I do not worship the sun.