I dreamt myself to the edge of the earth for to see the sun rise, unblinded by the horizon.
I brazenly spied her morning start, brought up by Apollo’s constant hand, throwing shadow against the shoulders of Atlas’ back.
Unnatural and whole, I watched her dance.
orange and pink liquid tendrils into an endless space were thrown
splattered and stretched drying on a canvas wide and dripping fresh light of life unto the earth.
The longer I stared, the more vivid she grew, but planted also a tumour into my vision.
Darkened first was her centre, like a black susan blooming,
but soon followed her painted sky and all creatures that saw her until,
for all the beauty that be, I could have only my imagination to see.
such is my love for you
Captivating, glorious, the renewal of my very being, all purpose of breath –
you bring my life indescribable beauty.
The promise of you carries me up in the morning,
dances me through the duties of the day, and willingly, gleefully to bed at night.
but in your absence now my earth grows cold:
colours lose existence
and the joy is less often sown from an earth dry of life’s light.
I thought you once my Atlas and understand you now as my Apollo
Commander of light – the light of my world.
To be without is to be suspended in darkness waiting, waiting…
for I have stared into the sun times before and I know that this spot, too, will fade.
So I will wait to again see your light, but, awaiting then,
I close my eyes into dreams taking me to the edge of the world
to revisit something like the beauty that you bring me
until from this world I can again return to your beautiful rays,
my good morning…