Uncover the Sun

Treasure Tree


In the meadow, tall and free,

I saw a gnarled treasure tree,

its bark held pockets of moss and more

gifts not found in town or store,

latticed lichen, bugs, each beak

of tiny birds nestled wing to cheek


And by its roots, as was its habit,

a snoozing, brown, bespeckled rabbit,

that promptly raised its sleeping head

and gazed without an ounce of dread,

then slowly hopped away from me,

to lounge at another side of the tree


Against the trunk I leaned full length,

the tree, it lent to me its strength,

and also several curious ants

(I had to brush them off my pants)

I sighed as I stood bark to cheek

and let down fall my heavy week


The week, it landed on springy grass

along with each alack, alas,

right next to a bunch of yellow flowers,

upon which bees hummed for hours,

about nectar, honey, sun and rain,

while I started to feel myself again


I stood in the sunshine at my leisure,

then thanked the tree for every treasure,

though it ran no errands, paid no bill,

had no obligations to fulfill,

simply by standing and being a tree

it gave peace and solace to more than me


Eliel Fionn 2/23/23

Uncover the Sun



We don’t want

to talk about

those people,

the ones that came



It was hard,

being poor,

the war, the work

that chapped the hands

and curved the back


Why remember

the unpleasantness

of their struggles,

when you can focus

on now


But see how my roots

still entwine me,

the fearful folk who fled

their home ground,

unwelcome there


I am bound

by ideas unconscious

but carried

carried into the future

by them, by me


Their blood still pulses

in my veins, they

keep me alive

through every hard



They are the salt

in my blood

that savors me

flavors me,

their sweat, their tears


I am from those

who came before,

though I never knew them-

gone long before

I ever became


I am full

of generations,

even of their joy

in knowing

I carry them still


Eliel Fionn 12/29/23

Uncover the Sun



I found a poem

in the garden

between the watering can

and a row of peas

where the sun

lay glistening


I found a poem

in the park

down the curve

of a slide

and the glee

of a child


I found a poem

under the covers

where my feet

reached past

our warmth

and felt the cold


I found a poem

in my head

but didn’t write

it down,

and then

I forgot every line


But even that

was a poem,

the empty space

that every rhyme


disappears into


Uncover the Sun


from your bones

and let the structure

of joy move you,

your arms

embracing everything

in half rounds



from your heart

with closed eyes tilted

up at the corners

and the soft curve

of your shoulders

seeking sky



from every hair

curling and coiling,

from the soles

of your feet arching

and your fingernails,

quarter moon smooth



from deep

earth orbiting


to sky bows

from rain

completing their bent



from your mind

at the thought

of everyone

who has ever

become part

of your smile


Uncover The Sun

night swim


the water is warmer

than the soft night air,

stars are dipping big and little

across the velvet sky


orange trees 

look like dark green 

corrugated cardboard,

moonlit cutouts


all the world 

is night different,

shades and textures



we tread water,

kicking our legs

to keep afloat

under the infinite 


stars smile

at our tiny grand plans,

which fade to shadows

in the peaceful water


Uncover The Sun

For Ukraine


There’s a bear

in the field

of sunflowers

tearing through

those golden glories

simply because

it doesn’t want them

to shine




has no purpose

but destruction,

forcing beauty 

into ruin,

and profaning 

the sacred


The sacred is a gift

that small minds

and cold hearts

cannot find

in themselves,

and set out 

to extinguish 

in others


But no matter how many 

flowers perish

in any season,

their seeds fall upon 

the nourishing earth

and grow

and grow

and grow


Uncover the Sun


If we sit together
on this rock by the river,
and let the sun
warm the hard places
where we do not meet

Maybe words will fall
into the water,
the hard words,
the disagreements,
the name calling

And the color of our skin
will be like flower petals,
each soft in beauty,
in difference

And our bodies,
their genders, places of birth,
languages, experiences,
will tell us both
about love and pain

And your beliefs
and mine will open
enough to include
a meeting place,
like this rock by the river

And the spark in your eyes
will greet mine,
maybe not in friendship,
or even understanding,
but in simple humanity

Uncover The Sun




like a child

or a cat sprawled

wide asleep


That deep relaxation

in which your mind sighs

in relief, your body

sinks into renewal


Rest among the clucking

chickens and birdsong

with the dark night stars



Here, safety

breathes every breath,

time moves snail slow,

nothing is everything


Calma, they say, calma,

when presence stretches time

into always enough

and accomplishes everything


Uncover the Sun



Blue navy waves

with white caps

and whales

greeting the clouds

with a blow and a spout

then a gray dive deep


Do you hear them, singing

songs of migration,

already ancient when the world

was fresh and the water

clear and salty

and certain


A whole concert

of hellos, welcoming

the newly born,

and a resonant keening

to mourn all those

who’ve sunk to the sand


With echoing calls of sorrow

and wonderment

at the surface songs

of humanity,

whose vain glory

blares loudly how great they art


Rough waves, and whales

dying to find cool waters

and always singing

for love of the sea,

their vast hearts full

of silence and sound

Uncover the Sun


It might be

a stiletto of words

thrust directly

into your heart


It might be

the casual indifference

of someone

who professed to love you


It might be



then broken


It might be

the gap between

what you do for love

and for money


It might be

loss after loss

of whatever or whomever

you held dear



has filled you

with that hard, sharp, dull

blade of despair


Whatever heavy

weights your shoulders

and crowds

your mind


Whatever has happened,

it isn’t you,

it isn’t the heart

you were born with


It isn’t the you

that delights

in sunsets

and mud puddles


It isn’t the you

that creates

as exuberantly

as any child


If you reach inside

deep, deeper still,

there you are,

yourself, unwounded