The Golden Fire Poem by Patrick Czyz

The sun has been dubbed golden fire
-And rightly so.
It breathes out dark despair
To sustain its lively flame.
And as fateful morning finds itself
Clutched by relentless sorrow,
The mourning of loss is lighted by a day of gain.
Yet why must this greatness end with night?
Nature sets limits,
But not without purpose:
To balance gratefulness,
So that love may burn and die…
Only to be seen rekindled by a thankful eye.
-Rightly so.