The sun is shining, and my skin is warmed by the rays which fall so gently from above.
Envy not for those clouds which might pass between, from time to time, nor despair at the cooling breeze.
The birds sing playfully from the branches of a tall tree which has grown under this very light, year after year.
Even after the day has passed and the light has retreated over the horizon once more, you are there, still.
At times the moon serves as a reminder, a pale lamp in a sky of stars.
In time, a glimmer once more at the edge of our Earth, and with a burst or with a whimper, day returns.