The sun, the ancient sun, is higher now,
bringing summer with its fireflies at night,
its green and fragrant fields, my sweaty brow,
while on my knees planting in the radiant light,
and there, my mind drifting off like clouds,
white against the blue, is like a sailing ship
going its indifferent way to some horizon,
perhaps to you, far away, where I can slip
into your life and with a touch, surprising
you, kiss your lips before I turn and go,
returning to this garden where I dream,
grateful for the sun, more than I know
and happy to be breathing in each beam.
Oh sun, you are a star, but you are ours
giving us a love that blooms like flowers.
