Perspective

To us on the earth
The sun is an eternal, enlightened traveler
Of the seas and lands not merely of the mortal man
Setting on my shores
To rise in yours
Across the great separating waters
A golden journey across the diameter of our hearth
Twenty four hours of crazy crimson mirth

And yet, for Apollo himself
- To him it seems
That it is we who make the journey
Encircling him in a binding, unfailing orbit
Three hundred and sixty five days
Of warmness, wetness and the winter cold

What might i say of who is true
The astronomer who says that we are the voyagers
Or us who see with our eyes a good sunset
Perhaps the answer lies in the ether filled
Spaces of the somewhere-in-between
And so it goes for other things