My friends talk about the sun.
How it hangs, and rises
and sets.
It is as though
this sun,
and its daily returning light,
is a deity by which
we see everything.
My friends capture
the sun,
in a word,
a camera’s lens,
in a moment’s paused breath.
It’s as though this remembrance
is a piece of perfect,
to preserve as a record of good.
My friends point to the sun,
and exclaim, ‘Look’!
And we do, and consider how,
perhaps more than one of us
are loved.
And maybe we each are worth
its radiant countenance
upon us.
If not today,
then maybe tomorrow,
or next time we find ourselves
caught within its sights,
wooed by a glance,
in this stolen moment.
The light rising, and ascending
just for us.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
March 2019
Living Tree Poetry 