Grandchildren of the Sun
written by: Michael Zeller
@Zell_man
Our sun in heaven’s arc is still
He does not rise or set
A trick, illusion to our eye,
His burning pirouette
It is our earth, our pale blue dot
Which spins an oval trail
Born from the vast, primordial disc
Now shelters children frail
We turn with her at dawn of day
To look anew and trace
Upon the sky, so warm and bright
A glance of light and grace
So with our mother here we spin
Within the void we prance
While looking down her father smiles
And loves us as we dance
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