I saw the clouds in your eyes,
the sun in your smile,
heard song birds when you spoke,
and thought you a creature of living sunlight.
Always bright, shining, warm.
Then I tasted night
sweet silence, twinkling stars, bright moon
and the comforting blanket of darkness.
I thought the bird pretentious,
the sun too big and bright and boisterous,
the light to hot to touch.
And when the clouds turned dark and angry, I realized
You live and breathe the day
but I savor the twinkle of starlight
and the dusk and dawn only come twice a day.