You’re About

You’re as fragile as a sky, as constant as a cloud.
So willing to hold a sunrise you know has no choice-

But you let yourself fall from the setting.

Why do you hold on when you know
That’s what a sunrise does, sets?
Why do you fall down when you know
That’s what a sunrise does, returns?

It must.

Why not stay so tall you can catch a sunrise?
Why not let fall what was made to fall?

Why not know, how strong, how light
How fierce, how wild wonderful a gift,
It is to hold fire, to survive fire,
To let fire drop to drown in the horizon?

An embrace is not an embrace if it lasts forever.
It’s standing still, squeezing the Sun,
Falling, flaying, shouting saying: “Not this time.”
Ears too full of fire to hear, you said,

“Not this time.” Again.

Let a day burnt be ash; yesterday’s Sun is gone.
Fire burns the world turns, each star finds
Its sky again, by making a new star, each sky is relit.
Brighter, hotter, truer, every Sun returns home.

He must.

Why not stay so tall you can catch the sunrise?