Before there were walls and temples,
before kings forged crowns of gold,
the first light rose — a gift from the Creator.

He placed the sun to pour warmth upon our skin,
to stir the sleeping earth awake,
to mend weary bones with its radiant fire.

Yet we remember —
it is not the sun itself that heals,
but the One who set it burning.
He fashioned it as His messenger,
carrying light to our eyes
and strength to our souls.

When I stand here at the edge of the world
and feel its golden breath on my face,
I feel Him near —
the true Healer,
the giver of every dawn.