Why do we say the rising sun?
It is always there.
Sun doesn’t move in it’s broiling glow.
We are the ones
spinning round and round,
cycling in and out,
waning and waxing and
rising then falling.
We rise, cycling round
another spin on the rotation -
turning now, once again,
we face the burning, cleansing, nourishing love,
as if it had left us alone and cold
with only its weak reflection for comfort.
Blaming what never left. But,
wasn’t it we ourselves
who tire of its gaze?
Thinking to slip away and
hide in a kind of make-believe bunker
until ...We tire of that too.
Aren’t we the clever ones?
Yet, Sun is always there, and
in the moment she takes us
back into her warm embrace,
we will be there too.