On My Shoulders

The Sun is on my shoulders
it asks to soothe me
to offer comfort

I do not turn to it in reply
but continue sitting with my back towards its light,
Basking

If I do not answer the sun,
will it continue to shine?
For how long will it give light and warmth
whilst I ignore its presence?

What type of recognition does it desire?
Should I bow before it?
Offer songs of praise?
Or does this great ball of fire merely
long to be my acquaintance?

How would we communicate
at such a great
distance?!

I have no light to reflect
in return for the sun's generosity
perhaps our relationship meant to be
one sided

Rays travel millions of miles
to caress my shoulders
their heat sinks into my skin
and I offer thanks to their source.