Does the sun feel scared—
Looking out over earth
and all she cares for?
Does she fear the loss of one
of her most beautiful children?
The Earth, one of her closest?
A beautiful ball
of water and fire,
circling her for millions of years.
Does she ever cry out
in the darkness after a bad dream
that the earth falls off axis
and there’s nothing she can do
but watch it collide with stars?

Does she wish she had the hands of homosapien, strong arms like tiny creatures to reach out and save her daughter?
To hold earth in an embrace so loving that she might heal us all?

When we look up at her do we know how she watches our feet?
Watches as inventions yield
creation and destruction?
Does she favor us less as
grandchildren and wish for a new
evolution, or does she love
us unconditionally like some might
say is the role of a god?
Understanding we’re capable
of planetary annihilation?

Perhaps her vision isn’t at all tuned to us,
flopping on beaches and using
her power to the least of its
thus it doesn’t matter if we burn or drown.

Each year the earth goes round
her and she stays still
yet keeps changing.
Flares and dark spots,
Cold spots and hot spots.
What would it be like for her if she lost a planet?
Looking out and seeing the empty
place at the table,
in photographs,
in the universe.
Just more star dust,
another bad dream
waking her up once again.