A Year of Sunlight: Every Surface Illumined – A Poem (25 July 2015)

A Year of Sunlight: Every Surface Illumined – A Poem

Sunlight on a cloudless spring day
pouring from a clear blue sky
like spring water, icy and piercing,
no matter how warm or even hot,
crystalizing everything it touches.
Maybe a squeeze of lemon juice
sharpens the clarity and the crystal,
brightens the photon’s aspect.
If you could hear it, it would sound
with the shocking decrescendo
of fine crystal shattering
into finer shards, falling away
with wind chime notes ringing
diminuendo
on every surface illumined.

Sunlight filtered through late summer clouds
oozes across a polished hardwood floor
like heavy cream, softening as it spreads,
a warm hard sauce of lazy luminescence,
hazily caressing everything it touches.
Perhaps a grating of nutmeg
darkens momentarily,
obscuring the photon’s aspect.
If you could hear it, it would sound
with the droning of the cello’s strings,
maestoso e misterioso,
a canon by Pachelbel
with fluid notes clinging
sostenuto
to every surface illumined.

Sunlight breaking through autumn leaves,
dripping from limb to trunk to ground to root
like juices from a grilled roast carved too soon,
hot, bloody, spicy, herbal, meaty,
tantalizing everything it touches.
Imagine a sprig of rosemary
lifting briefly the fallen veil
revealing the photon’s aspect.
If you could hear it, it would sound
with the wailing of a tenor sax,
bluesy, and woozy, and sad, so sad,
hot, spicy notes falling
lacrimoso
over every surface illumined.

Sunlight refracted through winter’s ice,
Darting and dancing, restless and wheeling,
like the almost-sour sweetness of lime sorbet,
a biting, tangy, not quite sarcastic tartness,
appraising everything it touches.
A soupçon, just a hint, of mint
moderating its attitude,
relaxing the photon’s aspect.
If you could hear it, it would sound
of bells in carillons tolling time,
ringing joy but knowing death
con amore
in every surface illumined.

by C. Eric Funston
25 July 2015