Blaze, sun, blaze you fire streak, Above horizon ashen sneak, Specked with brilliant heat from molten core, Ball of flames such orange pumpkin, Burning object, many lore.
A gleeful creature shed rays of light, Bring swift end to blanket night, Lava white pinpricks vanish far, Seen not 'till the moon prevails, And sky so soft is dipped in tar.
She with fame a myth ruled over day, Angel pure free from decay, Deity honored with many precious gift, Bow down to her majesty, Sacrificed poor lamb so swift.
But she, a terrible being slaughter, Stole away liquid, took the water, Dried the life, said died of thirst, Wrinkled hopeless fruit from limb, Not only blessing, 'tis the worst.
In quiet rooms where whispers fade, I hold the words I’m slow to trade. No eager ear nor friendly gaze, Just watchful walls that keep my days.
A thousand thoughts like scattered sand, Slip through the spaces of my hand. Who counts them all? Who hears them fall? He knows. He listens. Knows them all.
I need no crowd to weigh my heart, No vows that fail or drift apart. When voices fail and doors are shut, He is enough. My soul is shut.
The secrets kept in silent air, He gathers gently in His care. The tears I hide behind my eyes, He measures deep. He hears my sighs.
When no one stays and none remain, He mends the seams of unseen pain. In quiet trust I find my part: He is enough to fill my heart
