Hail to you who pries open my eyes

With your pointed fingers,

Laughing at my grumbled complaints,

Because the day is waiting for both of us.

Hail to you who beckons from the window

As I do my daily work, who tracks

Are marked on the clock I watch, waiting

For your high hour when I can feel your

Vibrant passion on my yearning skin.

Hail to you who flings the colors

Across the sky where we can all admire

Your evening artwork - you are not subtle,

But then you never need to be,

We will all look up and adore you anyway.

Hail to you who flips me a wave,

A last streamer of light as you sink

Over the crest of the horizon,

Where you sharpen your fingernails

To pry my eyes open again in the morning.

Artwork by Thalia Took.