Matthew Freeman, Playwright

From "a circle"

Matthew Freeman

I thank the sun for allowing poisonous flowers to bloom. I thank the sun for being just like any other respectable deity: unfeeling, neutral, as quick to flood as to build. I praise the sun for all those who cannot see it. I thank the sun for being the light of the moon. I thank the sun for water. I thank the sun for its perfect distance. The sun provides all and I have given the sun nothing in return. The sun accepts no gifts, but history is littered with sacrifices. I thank the solar for the soul. I thank the gas giant for the white dwarf. The sun is just one of many stars and we are the only life in all creation and we have this utterly common star to thank. We are alone and the sun doesn’t mind. The sun gives sickness and nutrients, all honor and glory to him. The sun has no other suns to talk to. As above so below: the sun is molten and the core of the Earth is molten, and the heavens are burning and so is every hell. We must get off the Earth before the sun gives out. I praise the sun for gravity, for peace, for how it rises, how it falls. Thank you, celestial body, for the water colors of the atmosphere. Thank you for sight and for breath. Thank you for your inconsistencies. Thank you for being untouchable. Thank you for unrelenting. The sun is my father and just like him, he will not hear my confessions. The sun is not above us, but we look up.