The Sun
Being that we are in the height of summer here in the northern hemisphere, I thought I would share a poem that I have worked with recently that expresses “wild love” for the sun. I was born just after the summer solstice, and I love swimming in the summer ocean, but my body and temperament struggle with the hot humid heat of deep summer. It feels a bit more tolerable living outside of a city right now, but I still find myself counting down the days until I can enjoy a cool fall breeze. In light of that, I am working on expanding my capacity to appreciate the summer, and I share this poem by Mary Oliver with that inspiration in mind.
What would your poem to the Sun say?
The Sun
By Mary Oliver
Have you ever seen
anything
in your life
more wonderful
than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon
and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone–
and how it slides again
out of the blackness,
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower
streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance –
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love –
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure
that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you
as you stand there,
empty-handed–
or have you too
turned from this world–
or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?
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