When the Sun Speaks

Dear Sun,

What makes you get up in the morning?

I mean, really.


Everyday you face a world of

Turmoil and Pain; Murders and Suicides; Smoke and Ash.

You hear the quiet sighs of the teenager who

Wakes and shakes, hoping that

Today’s abuse won’t be as bad.

The shuffling feet of the

Heavy-lid, dark-circled man, who

Today, manages to brush his thinning hair over that

Rebellious bald spot in the middle.

The quiver of the too young girl as her

Too old groom slides a

Too big ring onto her finger.


You feel the fear of a thousand runaways,

Running from their homes,

Where conflict has all but left a few stones.


Running from the stars,

Who hold secrets that must never find their way out

Of the deep pockets sewn into their constellations.

And sometimes, running from you.


You see, Sun, I don’t know what you’ll bring with you.

I think that’s what scares me.

Some days, it’s lovely.

Most days, it’s painful.


I looked up on that agonizing day,

And there you were,

Beating down on me.



One thing, though, Sun,

I hope you know that my tears do not

Fall to extinguish your flames ---

Just my own, I suppose.


I wonder, Sun, if you can answer me

Why I feel so alone?

Why I am already so tired

When you’ve only just peeked through the slit in my curtains?

Why my heart beats so fast for things that it shouldn’t?

They call it an attack, but does that mean that I should be able to fight back?

Why am I so scared to do what I’m here for?

What am I here for?


S-sorry about that --- I just don’t know who else to ask.

The moon told me yesterday that I would never be like them:



It told me I would remain cracked,

As it illuminated the reflection that

wouldn’t stop staring back.

I keep the lights off, because I can’t look at myself.

But something about that eerie glow

Is worse.


Hey, Sun,

Please tell me Annie was right.

Come quickly.

Although you can be terrifying, I’m

Having trouble sleeping with that crescent

Boring craters in my back.



Dear Little One,

Good morning - I greet you with the same.

For I suppose it's what you start your day saying

That defines what it becomes.


Good as I am,

Sometimes, as you say,

I shine down on pain and rubble.

I see the same anguish you do,

Although my own lids do not close.

The hurt is always evident to me,

Naked and bare.


I’ve sat through war upon famine

Upon self-inflicted scar

Upon raw, heart-wrenching cry.


Still, I shine.

To see it all and stand


I must tell you, is not for the faint of heart.

So you too, my dear, are strong.


But, Little One,

I’ve also seen treaties and the plentiful give to the needy.

I’ve seen wounds healed with a kiss

And wild laughter burst out of cries.

I’ve seen the angriest of people

Turn quiet with peace,

The promise of a hope and future lighting their eyes –

Maybe not yesterday,

But today, when I rise.


Little One, I’ve seen it all.

So yes, still, I shine.


You know I keep an eye on you, too.

I follow you to work, school, and rest.

I dance with you in the rain,

While clothed in white cotton

Just as in the winter,

And you, in fancy, plastic-coated ballet shoes.


When I sink into your windowsill,

I’m only peeking into your neighbors’.

You are the youngest of all creations

So I leave you Elder Signs in the stars

To guard you in the dead of night.

You, my dear, are family.


So don’t be afraid. I never truly leave you.

When all others fail, you can count on me to be here.

High in the sky,

Unwavering and true to my Word.

You, my dear, are family.


Hey, Little One,

Don’t you know there’s healing in my rays?

Why do you care what the Moon says?

Even she, beautiful as she is,

Is sometimes shrouded in black.


Hey Little One,

Your calling is becoming ever clearer

With every moment of my rising.

Always take time to speak to the Father of lights -

The Father of my light,

Because maybe, Little One, He just spoke to you.


You are not alone. Even in the desert, the Sun shines still.

May God bless you.


Need to talk?

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