Pinching the Sun

This morning I woke up and pinched the sun Between fingers, the ocular assault ended Or began as I commanded, how fun I thought as the Iridescent rays rescinded Or ascended in rainbow hues. I could hold glory, perhaps skies so blue Painted on infinite canvas, my eyes deceived By believing in their own power but I wasn't convinced and walked outside, grieved To find the orange God was gone. Where he went I mused and mused to chagrin Of Heaven I perused, page after page of celestial book Where beams of pure love would shine down on me Never finding, never finding this hidden brook; Golden God of the sky, I will never begin.