SunGodSun

SunGodSun
 
Sky blue and blank,
treetops in motion,
all saying something
like goodbye.
 
Helios pulls the sun
in a chariot that’s sun,
or he is. I was
that god when a child
before I knew
the god the sun
were saying something
like goodbye.
 
We, we humans,
were the ones
who turned and turned
away, wobbling like
the drunken school bus driver
of myth.
 
We still don’t seem
to know our job.
Not this. Not that.
But and, the yoking word
that pulls the light
and faces forward
holding tension, still
but moving,
saying something like…
something like.
 
 
S. Robbins, September 6, 2020, from Readings

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