Child of the Sun

Freckled and barefoot, I was simply a child of the sun. When I say I miss home, I mean that I miss the small moments of utter clarity when the sun touched the green parts, the brown parts, the rank parts, and the beloved parts of my world, bringing an unquenchable grace to each. I miss the place where the expanse of my mind felt as wide as the horizon itself, humbled and taught by the firmament. The connection of body and earth, melded together by a soothing force that catalyzes rather than oppresses. A renewing fire that burns to energize and bring newness. 

My Aunt Paula always called herself a sun worshipper. But not me. I'm a child of the sun, a child of an omnipotent God. All children learn the ways of their parents, all the while bathing in the wonder and splendor that they have afforded them. Even though they can't yet understand why or how.