Would that our love were constant as the Sun,
Who though He needs his daily rest too,
And slips under the cover of earth's horizon
To find such bliss as He can without us
Always in his sight, still rises to greet us,
With each new dawn, as warm as ever.
And if He did not, in fact, miss us in slumber,
Never has He seemed piqued by our absence,
Always ready to embrace us fully,
Nothing between our shared warmth,
(Though we hardly measure up to His) ,
But imagination, light, and, of course,
Ninety three million miles of void.
For this gift though I am grateful,
For otherwise, I fear, His ardor,
Would fully cook my goose! (1)
As always though, He is a lover,
Who I can count on to pay attention
To the smallest detail and who would
Always love my dog (2) too, if I had one.
In comparison with such light, love,
I fear we both fare quite badly,
As more passive reflectors of His love, at best,
We both have our phases like the moon,
Whose light, though welcome in Sun's absence
Scarcely measures up in its generosity or warmth
To that which the Sun gives all.
Let us aspire more then to His largess,
And if we never measure up fully
To His example, still let us share our warmth,
Our abundance with others, as Grace allows,
Living always in the spirit of His Love.
I'm a big fan of the sun, and it's heat. Of course I need to be careful, if not covered up when in the sun too long I burn red as a cooked lobster (or is that a goose? lol) . I like the way you personify the sun as someone we can count on. Even my dog likes the sun, he likes to lay on his back sunning his belly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem previously was rated at 2 votes for an 8.5 average prior to Merov's recent 1.0 vote. But I am so enthralled with Merov's judging skills that I am awarding my own poem 3 ratings of 10.0. For Merov to give me a 1.0 clearly means that the other two voters were less skilled in thier judgment.