I recently found myself attracted to the external bodies of our solar system. My heart pulled away from Earth, longing to accept another’s gravity.
As I felt this longing, I contemplated the planet closest to the sun. Mercury, all fire and doom. I remember clearly disregarding it as a child, being featureless and inhospitable. Yet now I realize the decisiveness of its name.
The small planet is passion, without regrets or shame.
Here is a perfect visual of the ancient Roman god of war. Dressed in the purest of metals, An orb racing the sun without fear, chasing forever its lover Venus.
But I like to think of Mercury better as a father. Standing between the ferocity of the sun with his family behind him. Silent, he asks for no thanks or approval, but simply a promise to live life to the fullest.
To live passionately, as if our own hearts were burning like the small planet, Mercury.