Do you remember the first time you saw the sun? I do, figuratively speaking. It was a day quite like any other, dull and grey, until I laid eyes upon what lit the room, the building, the world. Everything was bathed in golden light unlike any I had seen before, the colours of the scenery came alive with whole new hues. For the first time in a very long time I felt like everything was going to be okay. I could endure anything as long as I could stop to rest and bask in her glow every so often. Thus began my life of solar worship.
Launched into her orbit, I, being timid of nature, contented myself with observing her from a distance. The grace of her arc across the sky would imprint itself upon my retinas, and I would attempt to trace her likeness in the sky at night. Her warmth would comfort me through endless winters. I would whisper odes to her under my breath when no one was around, I would build temples in her honour in my dreams, I would wait, patiently, for a chance to reach out and touch the goddess, but ultimately shirk at every shred of opportunity in sight. I was an invisible satellite, an unseen moon, and a moon that would stay hidden does not shine.
So, lost in reverie I was, so lost and so dejected and yet so hopeful, crafting verse to sing her praise, yet locking it within myself. That is when the thought occurred to me, that I had built this whole imaginary world myself, a world which she and I inhabited, in which I upheld the status quo that I could not let go for fear of losing her. Could, therefore, the truth hold up to the dream if I were to step outside my head and take a leap of faith? I had no time to ruminate on this notion, however, for an opportunity presented itself, so shining and alluring as not to be overlooked, even by one such as myself. I took wing in a moment of courage and vowed to reach her to touch upon that blessed divinity, to win her favour, to take my place as the royal consort if luck may have it. But like Icarus, I flew too high, my wings were burnt by her flames, and down I went. Even as I crashed into the cold, hard ground, I found myself praising her, for how could one grieve one's demise in such blessed radiation. "My love", I declared "'tis glory to perish in your light!" Thus ended my life of solar worship.
It is darkness in which I now dwell, her image in my head slowly fading. Her voice, her warmth, her glow, all these are things I remember recalling, but now can't. With every moment she slips further from my grasp as I am headed towards inevitable oblivion. I am not bitter, I am blessed for having known such beauty, and this will be my final thought of her, my sun, as the last remnants of her vanish from my unraveling mind. "Sinä olet aurinko, minä unohdan sinut."