In my youth I chased the Sun
And did not catch it.
In my ignorance I did not apprehend its worth
And knew it could not be mine.
In my foolishness I believed that lie
And let it go.
In my busyness it slowly set
And I did not notice the encroaching darkness.
In time it rose again
And I was o’rwhelmed by its brilliance.
But in my web of fences, and locks, and weak candles I was bound to the earth
And waited, wanting, knowing it would pass once again.
