The Sun

By Dan Chiasson Dan Chiasson
There is one mind in all of us, one soul,
    who parches the soil in some nations

but in others hides perpetually behind a veil;
    he spills light everywhere, here he spilled

some on my tie, but it dried before dinner ended.
    He is in charge of darkness also, also

in charge of crime, in charge of the imagination.
    People fucking do so by flicking him

off and on, off and on, with their eyelids
    as they ascertain their love's sincerity.

He makes the stars disappear, but he makes
    small stars everywhere, on the hoods of cars,

in the ommatea of skyscrapers or in the eyes
    of sighing lovers bored with one another.

Onto the surface of the world he stamps
    all plants and animals. They are not gods

but it is he who made us worshippers of every   
    bramble toad, black chive we find.

In Idaho there is a desert cricket that makes
    a clock-like tick-tick when he flies, but he

is not a god. The only god is the sun,
    our mind, master of all crickets and clocks.

Source: Poetry (December 2003).

 Dan  Chiasson

Biography

Poet and critic Dan Chiasson is author of three books of poetry: The Afterlife of Objects (2002), Natural History (2005), and Where's the Moon, There's the Moon (2010). A book of criticism, One Kind of Everything: Poem and Person in Contemporary America, was published in 2006. He reviews poetry regularly for the New Yorker and the New York Times Book Review. He has received the Whiting Writers' Award, a Pushcart Prize, and a . . .

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Poem Categorization

SUBJECT Religion, Stars, Planets, Heavens, Nature, Arts & Sciences, Philosophy

Poetic Terms Free Verse

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Originally appeared in Poetry magazine.

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