Because you asked.
And my brain wouldn't let me sleep until I wrote it.
A box of sunlight
He asked for a box of sunlight, and, in time she sent him a box
wrapped in gold and shimmer. He opened it and found it black
with a circle of yellow, words filling it...
If I could believe in angels, I would ask to borrow their wings,
and as we passed the sun, I would reach for the light -
burning my fingers - to trap it, and its heat, in a box, for you
But I am doubt-tethered to this earth, and can only promise you a season of sunlight.
If you are able to pass through the darkness that surrounds you,
and carry that which weighs down on you.
In return I will send the Summer
It's the only way I know how to keep the sun - by losing it
in the snowy nights, and weeks of grey. To earn it
by marveling at the frost and the beauty of its cold embrace
Sunlight will return to you, so bright your eyes will tear and shine
and you will marvel at the heat - and in turn, I will ask for it back
and you will say, with burnt fingers, that it cannot be boxed -
it can only be earned by finding the beauty in its absence.