she asked the sun.

And so, she asked the sun,

"Sun, how is it that every day you

are able to shine so bright?"

But the sun did not respond.

And so she asked again,

"Sun, what makes you give off

such heat?"

But again, the sun did not respond.

Discouraged, the girl crosses her arms

across her chess,

turns on her heels,

and begins to march away

down the broken sidewalk.

It is then that the girl sees {and feels} it:

the warmth on her back and

the light on the road ahead.

And the girl thinks,

"My path, ever golden, follows the sun."

- a poem by my friend written to me

quite some time ago.