love letter to the sun

The winter sun is so much different than the summer sun
sure she shines all the same
but the heat is barely there.
I wish I could adequately explain the way the feeling’s different too.
The way she touches my skin
and meets my eye, reminding me of all the winters passed.
Shivering cold, replaying memories of warmer days.
The summer sun too conceals in her some secrets.
Languid and lazy she beats down and brings the calidity.
Perhaps it’s the Leo n me but the sun contains it all
give me a quiet Sunday afternoon, an 80’s guitar riff
and closed eyes seeing not black but red
all of a sudden I can see right through to simpler days.
Satiated afternoons and effortless joy.
The ignorance only a child possesses, contentment running deep.
I could write entire novels about natures ever present, gentle power.
Bringing for that comforting feelings
“Oh, I’ve been here before”
and so I will again & again.