Chasing Faint Sunbeams

When thick clouds veil the sun for days on end, and only slivers of bright light descend — I watch each ray that slips through grey and cold, turn my whole face to catch what I can hold. No straight bright path, no steady golden flood, just glimmers piercing through where darkness stood. I lean and reach, shift gently side to side, follow each beam across the open wide. They keep me warm when winter winds are keen, remind me what my heart has always seen: that light returns, however faint or far, enough to make my golden petals are. I do not wait for skies to clear and glow — I hunt the sun wherever it may go. With every beam I gather strength and cheer, shining my best until the sky is clear.