Wish upon a sun
when you feel exhausted of hope.
Wish for the inner furnace
to rage through time and space
into your vibrating soul.
Wish that you may also radiate
ultra violent rays of joy.
May you inhabit brighter days,
and cast your shadows and fear away.
Dream under blue skies,
count the passing clouds and planes.
Gaze into the expanse of an ozone
that we hold dear, but not precious.
Release our shared carbon into an oversaturated web
of our tepid footprint, contending against
epochs full of volcanic screams
and pops of lives burst before us.
But we are all small, insignificant
to the monstrous but great sun,
hoping we too will eventually
catch fire ourselves for even for a brief moment
in our own fleeting lives;
wishing for a passion to drive us incoherent,
mad with devoted drive to cast our own
internal radiation throughout our nations,
praying that we leave even the smallest smear of our shadow,
on an odd little marble of a ball that will outlast us.
Till one day that frantic storm that blessed our sky
reaches out to enwrap our home with it’s last embrace,
let us at least pay homage to that which taught us
to look upward for inspiration in the first place.