I found beauty today in the simple silence of the sun.
He illuminated the land,
heated our soil, and gave us a point in which to prey.
He did this silently.
His screams and rumbles,
distant afterthoughts of a space of only calculated theory.

Was it he who did this selfless act
with no reward expected.
Was it he who gave and gave,
with no hope - or sliver of possibility
of ever having the favor returned.
Or was it he who was dying,
and we the death bugs,
harvesting on his dissolving body.

I felt beauty today in the simple silence of the sun.
His turmoil and giving natures required no attention,
it required no thanks
it just is

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