the sun peers over my shoulder
and i turn to it--
in anticipation--
after this
night of absurd nightmares
which i won't get into
which i won't get into

sun, father-- your light,
the message immaculate
unshaped by our
dark matters but
duly contorted...

there are no more requests
to the pervasive universe
no persuasive statements to
convince the course which,
although coarse,
is pure
in some outward sense that
cannot be possessed but
is possessive

and why resist? an open invitation
exalts through my window sill and

i rise
to fall
into the depths
of glory

only for rapture to
lose its grip but
such is the way
of the sun