“The Sun Comes”
“On those rare days when the sun succeeded in emerging from the dense blanket of clouds that typically covered the sky, I would marvel at it. What hidden meaning lay in this star whose brightness precluded direct view? How moving were its long-stretched beams as they made their way over millions of miles to glorify what had, moments before, been nothing more than a dull brick wall! I loved to watch its light focus on, and, in the process, divinify normally prosaic objects. A dirty glass window transformed into the shield of Zeus, blazing, shimmering, pulsing with millions of motes of infinitesimal energy. A dull gray flagpole became Hera’s scepter, striking the ground as an arrow of silvered fire, like one of her husband’s lightning bolts. Portions of the grass field turned otherworldly under the vivifying light of the sun. While their neighbors remained boringly rooted to the earth, these swathes danced with heavenly liveliness, beckoning me to a better version of life.”