The Sun Does Not Mourn

The sun does not mourn the coming of night
The world must turn but the sun is constant and bright
The moon bears no jealousy or grudge to the sun
But mirrors his brilliance until night is done

Some poets have said the moon rules the night
But she is only reflecting a great star's light
And those drinking shadows upon the earth hath
But fell to darkness by blocking his path

They say in their vanity, “the sun has set”
When in fact they have turned away and yet
The sun does not mourn the coming of night
But waits a new morning to bring his light

Epitaph

I wrote the sky both red and blue
Sunset, sunrise; midnight hours too
I wrote the sun, the moon and stars
Mercury, Venus, Earth and Mars

My lines proofread and well rehearsed
From galaxies to universe
I wrote the clouds. I wrote the rain.
I wrote typhoon and hurricane.

I brought words of mine together
In open fields beneath the weather
The heat beat down on desserts bare
Sailors drowned in oceans there

I wrote for you both lands and seas
I wrote sand dunes and forest trees
I wrote the mountain white with snow
I penned the valleys far below

I wrote the creatures; great and small
The elephant, the ant and all
The whale with krill on his dinner dish
The shimmering spineless jellyfish

I wrote the songs and moods of men
Joys and hopes and dreams again
I wrote of love both cruel and fair
I wrote the darkness of despair

I wrote of wealth and trust and loss
I wrote the price and paid the cost
And every time the caged bird sings
His heart within him finds his wings

You and I have traveled far
The journey brought us where we are
I wrote the diary of a life
In blood; my pen like a razor knife

To write has been my destiny
I've given all the best of me
And whether you will cry or laugh
When you read my epitaph