The sun impishly dances
across my desk
prancing between
flaws and scratches
evidence of time.

It dances
across my face.
Endlessly laughing.
It hides between lines
uncovers years
itself remaining unfading.

How can something so
unbending, adamant, true
exist among the degeneration
of everything
ever set into motion?

Its caress is taunting
ever intoxicating
unending.
Tomorrow will never come
never pulling the vial slowly closed.

To feel its warmth and company
is to feel God’s smile
a breath of hope.