The Day

The sun makes its greeting,
And rises into the sky.
It brightly waves good morning,
And the moon says goodbye.
The sun rises higher,
As it soars along its path,
Ever moving, all so slowly,
A point of light in a giant blue bath.
Up until its highest arc,
It shines upon the grasses,
It shines upon the sea, the hills,
And clouds glimmer as it passes.
Then it travels farther down,
And sinks close to the ground.
In a wave of exploding color,
It goes to bed without a sound.