Before the time of speech when men
Had only thought as guide, would they turn
Brow to daybreak and weep for relief, at first
Sight of their savior sun who chased the
Demons of the darkness away?
Not knowing why they were spared endless
Night, just feeling alive at the scent of
Morning dew, enacting their penance by the
Exuberance of their charge, to hunt and chase and
Squeeze the glorious hours til they were
Forced to hold vigil once more in the starlight.
Terrible it must have been, not even to know the
Names of those timely forces of mercy and
Salvation, to which all creation owed devotion.
Fortunate I am, to know the name of my sun, my
Apollo, without whose light I might wither, without whose
Return I might never be whole, at peace.