Once upon a time, when I fell desperately in love with the sun…
Dear Sun,
I have missed you in the evenings, when we used to walk together. When you would melt across the sky in orange, pink, purple, yellow, before plunging into the water, rippling against the shore (I liked to think) to be closer to where I stood.
It’s been so rainy lately, you see. July, height of summer. It rains every afternoon now. No sunsets anymore. No fireworks, no quiet explosions, no bittersweet slipping away goodbye. How can I mark the passing of days with only grey disappearing into dark?
True, I see you often in the middle of the day, boiling and seething in the water, white hot. When you see me, you are not gentle. You warm me too much. You draw sweat from my pores, you leave me soaked and exhausted and burned. Sometimes in your brightness bent through shade, even at midday, I recognize an old friend – familiar dappled light dancing, ephemeral, elusive. But your quiet shimmer feels noncommittal, touching the leaves, the grasses, the water, as often and as lightly as you touch me. I linger but do not speak. I’m not even sure if you notice me at all.
A confession: sometimes when you‘re directly overhead, I sit inside, deliberately out of your sight, boiling and seething on my own – keeping track of you through the window– missing your touch on my skin, wondering if you miss me too. You never say.
Oh, Sun. These restless, midsummer days are hard for me. Your light fills up the hours, and still my mind won’t let me be content. But, perhaps, dear friend, I’m not being entirely fair to you. In my lovesick neediness for your perfect heat and just-right light, it’s possible I am forgetting something…
…like the early mornings, when you steal across my bed, warm and bright, and kiss my face, before I’m even awake, before I even know where I am. I open my eyes and you’ve already crawled up the wall, out the window, making me think it was all just a dream…
A wonderful dream. But still, I miss you, Sun.
Love,
me
Words and photo © Jaime Greenberg, 2021
