Many moods of the Sun
The Sun’s soft light,
Filtering through my sheer bright,
Caresses my skin in tender delight.
Then scorching rays, fierce and undone,
Crack the soil beneath the Sun —
No crops endure, no life to thrive.
A solar storm blazes in the sky,
Mr. Sun plays games up high —
Satellites fail, no signals survive.
Yet when Sun meets the droplets tiny,
He shatters them into hues so shiny —
A rainbow arcs across the horizon.
The Sun declares, “I can do this and more,
Never underestimate my core.
I am energy — bright and pure.”
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