How could one ever speak of the sun dipping? How could something so grand slip into
something so small, so much less than it,
sharing its warmth with a world it can’t touch?
A starstruck deer wonders:
As the sun wills the pull of the stars, casting light on the secrets that the galaxy holds,
secrets for mankind to claim as their own.
What does the deer have?
It has only the hours given in a day.
to stare, to be caught in the headlights of something much larger.
The sun does not care for the deer.
It doesn’t know of its stillness.
For hours, days,
for centuries, every deer who came before it.
Time is all the deer has.
watching, waiting for the sun to pull the sky down with it.
not questioning where it will go once it slips from view.
Creation is beyond a deer.
It obeys what the sun wills with its eyes.
Second post! This one isn’t so vague in meaning, similar to the other one. I’m very open to criticisms and would love your thoughts on this!
