A former student of mine wrote this poem about the light of the rising sun. In her poem, she makes an intuitive connection between the sun's daily birth and the hues of an infant's nursery. I did not work with her on this poem, but if the opportunity had presented itself, I would have encouraged her develop this idea further.
Wondrous Light
Oh wondrous light!
Born of the horizon, your birth spreads pastel hues
of pink, blue, yellow and violet
across the sky like a baby's blanket.
Fiery red and orange streak your playground
as brush strokes streak a canvas.
Blue filters into the sky like a baby's first breath
wile pastels melt away on the clouds.
Ascending to the zenith
you return the gift of life with radiane beams.
Your strength wanes as the day recedes
and light, now muted gold,
gilds all the earth with its Midas touch.
Oh wondrous light!
-- Megan Hofmeister
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