Apollo's Discourse

The Sun smiles on me
and touches my skin
like a mother lovingly runs her fingertips
across the face of her newborn child.

As last night's cold dew
soaks my skin on the grass beneath me,
I know that I belong.

"You feel it, don't you?"
says the Sun, as He casts a warm breeze through my hair.
"Feel what, my love?" comes my arduous reply.
"The world spinning beneath your feet, little one."

"Oh yes," I smile,
"I feel it.
I have always felt it."
His eyes close, as if with pride.

"You see that tree there?"
He asks, pulling my face toward a twisted oak,
I slowly nod, enamored by His very touch.

Entranced. Enamored. Existing.
Affluent. Alive.
Infinite . . . Insignificant . . .
And yet, complete.

I shudder slightly as a beetle caresses my skin
with his many, many feet.
"This is your brother. This is your sister. This is you."

Vines entrap my arms and legs, pulling me beneath the soil . . .
As I tumble down the infinity of the Void
I hear His voice surround me,
"Don't be so discouraged, little one,"

"I can make you brand new again."
Blood and water surround me like a womb;
my shoulder-blades grow into flowing, majestic wings.

With vigor and pride,
the likes of which have never been felt,
I burst through bedrock and soil
and emerge into the loving rage of His Light

I feel a warmth deep within my chest
seizing my heart and holding it still.
"What is this feeling, my love?"

"That is your heart,
"beating for the very first time, little one."
I shut my eyes against the blazing heat of His infinance.
"Why does it hurt me so?"

"I am the first thing you have ever seen."
"I'm glad for that," I smile,
"I'm glad for it all."

"We are One,"
says the Sun,
"We are all One."
My newly-grown wings propel me toward the Sun.

"I am You. You are me.
"We are Hitler. We are Gandhi.
"We are Good. We are Evil.
"We are Darkness. We are Light.

"We are One."