The Sun is there for all to see God’s love and care for living things.
It goes up and the Earth is awake to start a day of labor and make.
It hides at night and darkness sets to show how hard is light to get.
Life’s nice and easy in the summer phase and cold and wheezy in the winter phrase.
But no matter the phase or phrase, the Sun’s always there with a smiling face.
It never gets angry; it always shines with the same grand power of God’s design.
The Earth sometimes frowns with rage reflecting the light and hiding the rays
Or howls with storms and hurricanes rejecting the warmth and killing the men,
But the Sun stays there with no haste gracefully waiting for a better chance
As the rain falls down to water the land and clear the way for a new life raise.
Has it not been for this steadfast gaze, how would we get rid of faze
And enjoy again an existence based on regular care and no change?
Being haptic is me when I am happy and free.
Haptic also means being hectic and dream.
People like to stay calm and raise no alarm,
Hoping this will increase their chances for peace.
But if they don’t move from the place they’ve smoothed,
How are they to flee when the time tides alee?
Because the earth’s dry desert is a bareness hazard
And the rest is a place of high and low unrest.
But if you’re haptic and sing with wings and wink,
You’re like a bird in the sky or a star in the night
That is never denested from the peace it has tested
Knowing it can escape or wing a new fate.
“Are you free next Monday?” you asked me twice, and I said, “Yes,” without waiting you to thrice.
“This time is yours: I’ve reserved it for you; it’s saved in a safe signed ‘Accessible to few’.”
You may think you are out, and partly you are, but only with the drawer that is behind the bar.
It bears the inscription “Come and Go”, which has to remind me you’re not mine to own.
But there is a part locked deep inside, which is mine on all behalf,
Because it belongs to a common past invested with a mutual trust.
You asked me to come and help you through and I was happy to be teaching you.
Maybe it’s scary to venture anew and start to do things where there are few,
But think of the option of having to brew just by yourself and nothing to hew.
I remember asking a friend one night, “Do you say the truth or utter lies?”
He snapped his answer quick as fly, “I say the truth, but I half it hide.”
I went on thinking: he is right to hide the halves of what’s inside his mind: it’s his mind, not mine.
But now I’m wondering: if one half is mine, does he have the power on that second half,
Provided he shares it with his second wife? Is that half-truth or half-lie?
Well, this is not too hard to find: you swap the minds and switch the halves and
Now you have two husbands and a wife, which is as equal to hide.
You utter the first and sigh the last and have one husband and one wife
For him to see and for the last for whom you are the only half.
Now let me ask you the same again, “Do I say the truth or utter lies?”