The sun is shining,
I feel like writing.
Suddenly, all the things that thrill me come alive.
Music, of any kind,
The morning winter sun,
A long and lonely drive.
The start of a new day,
The fearlessness of being me,
Saying no to what gets in the way.
The sun is shining,
Although timid and shy,
Just like I, always shows up for a new day.
Oh, if the sun shone
Like it does for me,
To these bitter souls…
Deprived of childlike innocence
And dreamlike beliefs,
I wonder:
Wouldn’t their souls
Sound so much prettier,
Healthier? More meaningful?
If the sun shone for them
Like it shines for me.
I’m sure they’d feel truly happy and free.
If the sun shone for them
All the things that thrill them would come alive,
And they’d thrive.
…
But the sun already shines,
And it shines equally to all souls,
Or does it not?
This poem was written while listening to the song “Trouble on Central” by Buddy and its listening is recommended while reading it.