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Writer's pictureGage Williams

The Sun is a Star

As I am in the presence of others, I shield my eyes from the blazing sun, lights from miles away warming my skin. I ponder her great power.


She greets the earth each dawning morning, announcing the start of a brand new day. Her presence affects the earth as bright light envelops the planet.


She determines many things: the crops, the weather, and our health. She is the master of all things living and breathing. Animals dance, streams glow… Her flames are glorious, anointing the earth with her graciousness.


I do not wonder who she is. She is wonderful, and I know her.


I am reminded of her aura as another bit of light beams down on me. I can feel it. The animals can feel it. The nearby stream sparkles. My skin is pink.


I sit for hours in the presence of the sun. I wonder how long she’ll stay.


Even as the sun looms further and further away, and as its dark counterpart comes to bring in the night, I still know. I still feel her.


I feel her in the constellations, too many to count.


I feel her in the shape of the moon, ever reminiscent of each other.


I feel her in the sky, when there is almost nothing but darkness.


I still feel her.


After all, the sun is also a star.


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