Does the sun also walk?
Does it search, does it wander?
It warms like a hearth,
Gives light as they ponder

But the sol also aches
As it yearns to partake,
in communion with nature
Among kinsfolk nurtured

Branches arch,
Gnarling, and dancing
With direction and inflection
Respite from infection

Does the sun also walk?
Caressing limbs of a tree
A path, a trail, a journey
Along the reaching leaves

Roots in the sky,
Give sol paused time
As it crawls, as it slides
Up, along,
And side to side

Does the sun also walk
Like us, tempestuous clocks?

No indeed
The sun also walks,
But has no need,
Of victory, or challenge, or aching and heat

No indeed
The sun also walks,
Along the tree’s sky reaching roots,
To add luminescence, and shadowy shoots,
To the stretching fingers
Of it’s friend’s mighty frame

The sun also walks
With no thing in mind,
But making even more beauty,
Of this figure in kind

I was inspired to write this amateurish poem by both the way I’ve seen sun land on this tree on multiple occasions, and by the book On Poetry by Glyn Maxwell. I don’t believe I’ve ever written a poem, and I depressingly low grasp of the mechanics of poetry, but I made one that at least feels right; one that at least conveyed the thoughts of the Sun I had this evening.