She is our sun

She is a woman; she is the sun.

Slowly brightening until she blinds with the fire she burns.

Her heat is radiating, infectious.

Without her, the world goes still,

lost without its matriarch.

She is the light across all we see.

She doesn’t apologise for her presence—

no, she expands further,

stretching to places devoid of life, willing them to grow.

A seedling sprouts; an eggshell cracks.

She is bold, but oh so gentle.

She is hot, but oh so cool.

I dare you not to stare.

She is a woman, and she is our sun.