Sacred Sun
By Rosie M
Whistling winds
Whirled through the trees.
Rigid rocks glowed
In the spectacular
Beam of yellow.
The birds flew like dandelions
in the wind.
A sea of clouds
Wafted in front of
The sun.
Without a guiding beacon
Sadness invades
The land.
The flowers
Aren't smiling,
The trees aren't
Dancing,
Nothing survives
Without the
Sun.