Where Golden Light Begins

The lazy sun goes wandering sweet,

Retreating slow, in soft defeat.

On dusk now brushed with rosy light,

A naughty cloud comes into sight.

Beside the forest’s quiet lake,

The birds still sing, their joy awake.

Fractured rays in water gleam,

They sway and shimmer like a dream.

They gently tint, without a sound,

The lake—

In golden hues that swirl around.

And though the day must find its end,

The sun still lingers, like a friend.

Until the twilight fully grows,

It paints the sky in fiery glows.

In quiet splendor, kind and bright,

It wraps the world in festive light.

And in that moment, soft, profound,

You wonder:

Why does this come around?

For once the dark begins to rise,

We draw together, side by side.

And what more reason could there be,

To celebrate in unity?

The sun, it whispers with a grin:

"Come, join the dance, now gently in!"

Yes, though the day may find its close,

Life, ever flowing, onward goes.

In heavy hours, when skies turn gray,

Let loyal friends light up your way.

No matter how the minutes weigh,

With kindred hearts, it feels like play.

And even when the night grows long,

The sun returns with warmth and song.

It hurries close to hold you tight,

To stroke your hair in morning light.

It teaches you to smile anew,

To see the wonder born in you.

It gently urges, “Grow, be wise,

And lift your gaze toward brighter skies.”

For what would noble Sol intend?

To shape you—not to break, but bend.

Not so you stumble, dim, or fall,

But rise and shine above it all.

With every step, through joy and strain,

You’ll blossom through both loss and gain.

And when you turn to look behind,

At where you started, heart and mind—

You’ll smile and clearly see how far

You’ve come to be

Just who you are—

Your truest self, a rising star.