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Song of Light

Grass is less green now, 
Air is less fresh, even blue is less blue.
I don't go to the shore anymore To watch the sea making love with the light, To ask the Sun a new question; I'm losing an old friend; He used to tell me stories In gentle whispers through the light: 'Sun, shine upon him,' I heard the voice in the air; 'He is blind without you and lost; 'Give him back his eyes, Give him fresh air and senses, 'Let him see and hear and smell and feel and breathe, Give him back his wings and let him fly toward you again.
'

Poem by Dejan Stojanovic
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Book: Shattered Sighs