I woke to find the usual darkness,
still enjoying its night.
The sun was off to the east, playing with others,
gifting them light so they could read or garden,
sit and chat with family or friends,
some of them, at least my hope, sipping coffee.
The sun would be here soon enough,
reliable and true, always there to light my day,
even through clouds and rain pouring down
on this little poke of land in the middle of a great ocean.
I’ve not noticed the lack of rain for some days now,
here in Haiku. The night is quiet, with some rain wandering
in during the night, stirring me to ebb from my sleep.
Come morning, the birds awake, the sun slowly ambles in,
and a heavy rain floods the land. Homes are drenched.
Gutters flow as plants, having come out of a deep slumber,
soak up the welcome moisture. For soon enough, the sun will rise,
blare and bake all that is here, for at least the day.
When all life will do and wonder, how wonderful it is
to see and feel and breath and be, a sun above,
lighting this beautiful world for them and for me.