Sun-Born

I was born on a day without sun.

And I’ve never regretted that fact.

I was born in mid-April, and there was no sun, there was no snow, there were no… thunderstorms.

There was plenty of rain.

I as born on a day without sun, so

I didn’t get any inside of me we I took my first, trembling breath

And opened up my eyes to that first view of fluorescent hospital lights

And rain.

I was born on a day without sun,

So I don’t have my own little nova in my chest,

Flooding my insides with light and seeping outside into soft warmth on my skin.

I just had to make some of my own.

I was born on a day without sun,

So I just created a little light for myself –

Just enough that when it dapples through my bronchia it’s still bright enough to fill up my chest,

It doesn’t have the pure gold hue of real sunlight and it doesn’t slip outside –

I don’t glow like those born into the sun –

But my sunbeams are just as bright,

And just as warm.

I was born on a day without sun,

But I never worried about it.

Everyone has to make their own sunlight sometimes.

I was born on a day without sun,

So I make it for myself instead.

And usually it’s simple – all you need is a little personal fusion –

And my head’s full of easily combinable materials,

Unworded thoughts and wishes and stars, memories like orbitals around my future,

And plenty of potential energy.

But sometimes my head gets dark, and smooth as night,

Sometimes I need a little light to start with,

A narrow bean to lance in through my eyes and reflect and collect in the back of my brain.

Sometimes I really need a genuine sunray.

I was born on a day without sun,

But sometimes I need it more desperately than I care to admit.

Sometimes I seek it out while clinging to the last sun beam in my chest,

Wane and wavering,

Alone.

Sometimes all I need is one of those sun-born. One of those nova-fueled people who shine out.

One of those people that glow, that radiate; one of the sun-born.

You were born in the sun.

You have that light-source within you; you radiate.

This isn’t a question of work, or of struggle;

I know you need to make your own sun, everyone needs to make their own sun sometimes;

This isn’t about strife; I know that my sun is so much easier to make than some,

I know you have struggled to make it before, but you –

You were sun-born. You have that golden glow.

You have that warmth that lets you wear sandals year round, and that inherent shine.

You were born in the sun because the light that you make can come out.

Because you shine, you radiate, and that sunlight can come out

It can lance in through my eyes and reflect,

And collect in my heart,

Because you were born with a ray of light in your chest.

You were sun-born.

I was born on a day without sun.

But I’ve never regretted that fact.

You see, rain becomes a blessing when it is your birthright.
I think the first element I ever felt was water,

Was tiny drops falling onto my new-born skin

Before anyone told me which weather was “bad”.

It hurts my eyes to look at the sun,

But rain has always treated me gently. The rain has always fallen softly on my skin.

You were born in the sun.

When I’m around you, I feel like a shadow. You eclipse my self-made light,

You with your summer-gold hair and that way that you radiate.

I was born on a day without sun,

But you fill me up with it. Your beams lance in through my eyes

To reflect and collect in my lungs.

And even though the rain is my birthright, and my sunlight is real,

 Being around you seems like summer.

It’s the way you radiate.

It’s the way your beams lance in through my eyes,

To reflect and collect

And collect forever.


XXXXX