The healer in the sky

The golden sun sings to me each year,

It's singing a song that calls to me within,

Like a Pheonix rising telling me not to fear,

As its golden rays gently stroke my skin.

It's a healer of such, those golden rays,

With its arms outstretched encouraging you to bloom,

That watches over you with a caring gaze,

And shines away the doom and gloom.

All of nature hears its voice,

It swishes and sways under its radiant touch,

It blooms and joins in with the dance with little choice,

And those summer memories are ones we seem to clutch.

The golden sun shows us how to love and to care,

With gentleness, fieriness, and a love that can repair.