Sunset

When the new sun set,
we left our hovels
and could only see
the old sun,

sleepy,

and hovering

in his way,
that familiar ramble
of ceaseless
wanderings.

Angry and hurt,
we boldly proclaimed,

“We are not cowards
and we will never hide
from the sun again!”

Complacent, encouraged,
we resumed our lives,
knowing that Old Sun,
so high above,
would not awaken
to take us,
until well after our kind
was dust.

How is it, then,
that we could so quickly forget
…not all suns are equal,
even as they all arc
from east-to-west?

But,
the second Sun God,
the one we misunderstood,
heard our whispering rumbles
and soon returned
to share her rage,
thundering,
by cutting at
our hearts and lungs,

and by forcing our eyes closed
beneath her ashen thumbs.

Is she is the ancient destroyer?

Have we angered the light
and now must await
the blackness to
be fully reborn?

Or was she always here
and now we must
merely feel
the early trembling
as the mother of death
teaches her children
to respect the world
and to fear

a new sun’s dawning.

©️ Obol, 2020.