Tag Archives: Sun

The Moon, My Friend

The moon, though, is a different matter entirely

Forever bolstering a light not his own

His limited and frugal glow

Barely enough to see by

Compared to his older sister

Who laughs unbashedly

And flings wide her embrace

At every chance meeting

Moon lits up not the sky

But just a path

Not enough to see the world by

And sometimes not even him

He promises to be by my side

Then leaves after a couple of days

He smiles wide

But it is pock marked and grey

No where near as joyous as his sister’s

He is always hiding something,

Never telling the full story

I would call moon a fickle friend

Not necessarily entertaining when he’s here

But at least he’s strong enough

To bare and show his scars

And maybe he shines just enough

To illuminate the important things

As for his inconsistent presence

Ever thought to wonder if

He wants to leave?

Supermoon, September 28, 2015 (UTC), Osaka, Japan.

Supermoon, September 28, 2015 (UTC), Osaka, Japan.

The World at My Feet

Inspired by the image

the world at my feet


Here I sit

with the world at my feet

and my dreams in the sky

But where am I?

What if I

kick off my shoes

how long will they take to land?

What if I

reach out my hands

will I touch the clouds?

Or the moon?

The stars?

The sun?

Or will I get

too close?

Too close to the sun

Instead of kicking off my shoes

will they be burned off my feet?

I see

but I cannot touch

I dream

but I cannot achieve

Here I sit

with the world at my feet

and my dreams in the sky

But where am I?

In the Darkness

In the darkness

the guiding radiant light of the sun

fades from sight in a burst of glory

In the darkness

the fragrant, vibrant flowers close up their luxurious petals

In the darkness

pinpricks of light gleam through the sable cloth of the heavens at night

In the darkness

birds, mice, deer, life goes to sleep

and those that don’t, are prey for the predator

In the darkness

there is hunting to be done

In the darkness

the moon replaces the sun as our guiding beacon

except the moon is more a fickle creature

here one night

and changed the next

and gone the other

pock marks on its visage

and yet the moon only pretends to light our way

for its illumination is of false pretenses

In the darkness

everything seems a little more mysterious and dangerous and wondrous

In the darkness

However, on the other side of the world

there the sun’s luster waltzs amoung the milky white clouds

there the birds fly across the bright cerulean heavens

there their euphonious melodies can be heard on the earth below

there the mighty, verdant trees sway in the gentle breeze

there life lives

In the darkness life lives, but in only a different way



More Questions Than Answers

Back in November (when it was surprisingly warm for the season) I did a writing exercise where the group of us went out to a grassy area just beyond some trees to write. There were different prompts to write about, below is my responses. Enjoy!

Why is it that I cannot look directly at the sun? The plain answer is that it hurts my eyes. But Romans 1:20 says that God reveals Himself through His creation. The sun is our giver, God is our life giver. I cannot look directly at the sun, I cannot see Gods’s face. I need a certain degree of light and a certain degree of darkness to see, what does that mean for my relationship with God? I need a certain minimum amount of good in me to know that good is positive and I need a certain minimum amount of good in me to see that God is good. And yet I also need an amount of bad to see that God is better than me and that because of that He created me because I could not create a being better. The worse cannot create the better. From less, more does not come.


I can see forever in the sky – how far into the blue can I see? I can only see as far as an obstruction to my view, so does that mean I can see at all? Am I only seeing a difference in the sky because of the obstruction? I can’t look at the sky for long without an obstruction – a cloud. Not because of the blue, but because of what is behind my head – the sun. What does this mean? I can only see as far as my end (an obstruction, a cloud), but it is so much more. Wondering ceaselessly is what I feel and what I wish.


Why did I choose full sun instead of partial shade? The leaves and grass are fin beneath me, not a cushion and not rough, just there. I’m on a slight hill – maybe twenty degrees elevated. Most of my skin is covered with clothing and my fingers have gone into a state of apathy. I could feel my surroundings best with my lips and cheeks because they are not traumatized by the many materials of life. I don’t like it when my blood concentration slowly rises upward, from my feet to my head and hands. I can feel my pulse at my fingertips. My life signs at my fingertips. My life in my hands.


The tiniest movements of the grass and the leaves I can only hear because of the inaudible wind. The wind makes no sound but it affects are heard, some from silences and some from natural disaster.


The leaves and the students are the same – scattered in different concentrations about. Husks of what they once were. For the students countenances give away their thoughts like the condition of the leaves – fragile and wanting life.


The juxtaposition I saw while coming back to the building was the dying nature of autumn against the solid unchanging institution with lively youths. Dying next to unchanging next to life. Spots of green leaves against trees in an early winter slumber. Green of hops against signs of winter of death. A warm day in November. Normally November is when people bring down coats, hats, boots, and gloves, not shorts-wearing-weather. The dark blue against the bright yellow of the building flag. Opposite colors, we see and read the world by juxtaposition.



Sun: A Sonnet

Oh, take a moment to feel the sunshine

Warmth on my skin crackles from rays

Dearest lovely sun after you I pine

So cold, winter here, show your face you may

Why does Jack Frost and Sunflower care not to meet?

How I wish to feel the welcoming glow

Sitting outside, grass soft, sun on my feet

The ball of fire, too early, begins to fall low

But, alas, I’m dreaming of a season past

Snowflake fairies deserve a chance to fly

Hot chocolate after sledding are blast

Memories of winter through mind, oh my

Snow-forts, snowman, snow days, all so fun play

Cold isn’t so bad, but I wish Sun would stay




*In case if you are checking their is no iambic in my pentameter!*

Click here to check out my other Sonnet poem I have written earlier this year.