Staring at the sun

I walked outside from the comfort of my own home.  I was told that I need to get out, that everyone is supposed to come out and get some sun.  I opened the door and as the crack of the door exposed the brilliance it practically blinded me.  I cautiously stepped forth as my eyes adjusted and I saw so many people all still.  Groves and groves of people all with their face to the sky, their eyes white as can be.  No one moved, no one seemed to notice anything or anyone around them.  Everyone was just staring at the sun. They seemed blinded by it, never turning around to see what it is illuminating.

I tried to talk to them but they didn't seem to listen.  I tried to get them to move and they didn't seem to care.  As I waved my hand in front of their eyes for even a brief second the shuttered and moved to stare at the sun again.  They seemed so scared of the shadows. Too blind to see the beauty in the contrast. The sun so big, their vision so focused for what light they could see that they only see it from a one side, the only side they can see, the only side they believe.

From afar I can see other droves of people, still with their heads tilled back, practically statues, but now with glasses on their heads.  Again they never move, they never speak, never mention what is within them but only stare.  I looked at their glasses and see a tag that stated, "See the sun for what it truly is." and all the time I wonder who sold them those glasses?  Are they able to see the other side of the sun?

I walk and look for someone to talk to, someone to ask what is going on.  I feel the warmth of the sun, I feel it breath life into me but I can't help look around to see the life it brings to everything else.  I rub my hand through the grass, I feed the lions who are milling about and circling the elk that appear to be dessert.  I breath in the sands of the desert and find shade in the forest.  I eat the leaves from the trees and drink the water from the ocean.  Then I come across another field and at first I can't tell what it is.  I get closer to see if I can make out because its difference interests me.  It's people, more but different.  These people with their legs stiff and their backs bent forward all with their heads in the dirt.  I try to get them out, try to give them a moment to breath as I feel their lungs need a bit of life but they fear the sun and dig their heads back in.  Fear or despise, hiding, ashamed, or none I am not sure because all of them refuse to talk.  They just dig their heads down and stand still.

So I walk, continue to breathe in the life of the sun and everything it illuminates around me.  I am not sure where I am going but I don't mind the lions keeping me company.

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