I wrote this with a prompt that urged me to speak with the Sun. That reminded me of Frank O’Hara’s “Talking to the Sun on Fire Island.” I think O’Hara’s sun was a bit more cordial than mine was; I’ll need to work on my relationship with our resident star. But for today, this is what the Sun told me.
The Sun Speaks How the hell you Humans got to be in charge on this planet is beyond me. You are so small, so frail, as vulnerable as an earthworm that’s had the gall to crawl out of the dirt. Your epidermis is soft, wrinkly and prone to burn. Don’t blame me! Why didn’t you defer to a larger species? Elephants, for example, or Whales? Maybe someone who had the good sense to grow feathers or fur? But no! You had to be Boss! You had to take over the planet, building mud huts, igloos, rough dwellings out of wood, reeds, rock, and brick, constructing machines, chimneys, transport conveyances all spewing smoke and ash, turning your air into a grayish brown, cloudy mess. Did you think that would help? Did you think this smog would filter out my rays and protect you from my heat? How foolish. It is not my intention to hurt you, but it is my nature to shine, lighting up the dark corners where secrets go to fester and weep. You cannot hide from me. I listen to your songs. I hear your stories. You have such beautiful dreams. I am happy for you. I am rooting for you. Please. Don’t be afraid. Photo by Rampal Singh at Unsplash