I can always tell when summer’s getting closer
because I’ll be abruptly awakened by the bright beaming star arising far above my rests.
Its rays are gentle on my eyelids while I flutter and blink and fluster around in my sheets.
I used to get mad at the sun;
swear at it for interrupting my sleep.
But now, easy morning as the day welcomes its enlightening,
I smile at the beaming glare;
let it shine into the stained glass windows
of my sacred soul