Il Sole

She worries her light is fading. She warns me tenderly, “I’m a star, we’re meant to die.” She was shortening her trajectory right before my eyes. A martyr in her own right; burning for her plight to ensure others are witness to her ever-present light. Oh, precious Sun, she doesn’t notice her glow. She turns to face away from us, believing we do not feel her warmth; unaware that we twirl endlessly in a celestial dance to align and to gaze at her. She doesn’t see that when all is said and done, we turn our faces to her, our loving Sun. She fears she’s burning out but, I’m left to wonder if she’s only just begun.

Photograph by @cottonbro