The Day The Sun Died

The ocean was alive the day the sun died.

Nobody saw its white beauty.

Nobody felt the cool of its break on their skin.

Eerie silence rose into the sky the day the sun died.

Pain instead of joy, broken instead of fixed;

life, never to shine again.

The sun was dead.

Still the ocean was perfect.


The Tide

Just as the tide


and falls

with the song of the moon,

so too must all life.

How could it be

any other way?

This I ask myself,

knowing the answer within

feels sure as the moon herself.