Searching for the Sun

This poem has been writing itself for a few months…. 

I could elaborate and reflect—but, for now, I’d like the words to speak for themselves. 

May you find your sun☀️ 

—EB

Searching

I used to search for the sun

Under rocks, 

And In the craggy crevices of the earth.

I’d peer through the branches of trees

Hoping for a glisten,

Longing for dancing light upon my skin…

And warmth upon my face.

Until one day, I heard a comforting whisper in the swaying grass.

It echoed through the trunk of a Maple tree, 

And pierced my ears as I turned my face toward the wind.

It said, “Silly girl…You can stop searching now. 

You’ve looked high and low,

Under rocks and at the tops of trees,

And the entire time, you did not see your own shadow cast across the earth.

The sun

And its glistening golden rays…

They have always been there 

Resting their head on your shoulder

Shimmering outward with the beating of your own heart.

They have warmed your face and your hands and your toes 

In the dead of winter 

They have pulled you out of your own winter slumber. 

They have been patiently waiting for you

To notice the light 

That is your own.

So rest now.

Lay down your maps, your plans, and your time tables 

And just be…

Then, begin anew

—this time, facing the sun.”