The Sun

A poem.

Image: A journal sits on a cafe table. We see a fountain pen resting on the page. There's a coffee in the background.

The Sun

She journeys into the sky and the dark retreats,

There's a gentle touch on my window, my coffee glass, my journal,

Despite the warmth, my mind is consumed by trivia, nonsense and empty fear,

Her light then touches my face,

And I remember, there's no need to worry,

One day soon her perfect journey will also be mine.