I wanted to produce a poem for our sun – sol – the giver of life.
It was marvelled at by the ancients and worshipped as a god. For they recognised that all the light and heat it gave was all that sustained us. As they saw it slowly rise, crawl across the sky and sink they sank to their knees and gave thanks. For we have need to produce ritual and seek answers. Our imagination is mighty.
Within its heart it fuses simple hydrogen and helium to create the full range of elements. It spews forth the complex atoms from which we are formed. Our carbon and oxygen were forged within that cauldron of unimaginable heat and pressure.
The planet we stand on is of its essence.
It pours forth light, heat and matter in a constant storm as we live within its atmosphere. It will do so for billions of years – as if an eternity. Then it will turn destroyer and expand to wrap us in its fiery cape and dissolve every artefact of our existence.
Once more we will rest within its mantle.
It is only a small star –
Incandescent in the night,
To create worlds.
Without pause or thought
As it gives
Of all it has.
From afar in wonder
As it appears
To traverse the sky.
With an atmosphere
It gives life
As it sacrifices