(a poem)
I watch the sun slowly illuminate the sky
Soft, gentle brushstrokes
He recognizes the beauty in the process -
not focused on the finished product
In this moment,
not calculating his worth
with equations
nor justifying the fruits of his labors
No quantifying
No numbers
No tracking of progress
Just being
Being
Bowing to the organic unfolding of time
His canvas slowly shifts from dark to light
The artist unaffected by the busy world
that surrounds
Answering to no one,
a trusted servant to the Universe’s flow
Gentle winds breeze by
and the sun remains unfazed
Quietly demonstrative
Quietly powerful
He greets the planets
as their shining paths cross
Venus lingering, opposite her brother Jupiter -
not quite ready to hide for the day
A radiant pink begins to gently
outline the soft edges of clouds
Subtle changes take time
Small steps, incremental
The sun is patient as he colors the sky
in order to wholeheartedly
shine for the world
A statement of
Sincerity
A statement of
Commitment
The world’s first beacon of light
Charming his audience
Day after day
Emanating rays of hope
A young girl squints
Overwhelmed by the sun’s strength
Soothed by his compassion
Pacified by his modesty
He is both warrior and angel
Effervescent, everlasting
Yet his phases so short and ephemeral
The same routine every morning,
but every time a wildly unique expression
