The sun shoots in then blinks behind cloud
The day begins like summer mornings do.
I don’t know where this poem is coming from?
the reservoir of survival, a spiritual source?

No one knows, I just know it's magic
It gives me a purpose and just as I say purpose
The sun pierces my sight and the light shines in
on my wheelchair and it becomes my throne.

I am the king of this un-adopted castle
Nature throws its light on me and I label it
Buddhist, Christian, Pagan or other.

You can see why civilisations have worshipped it.
It has the power of an Adidas top or a 60-inch
Plasma screen but this trademark is free.