The sun reached out to the tiny stone as if he had arms, and fed it to himself as if he had a mouth. He felt restored almost instantly, and the stone, of its own accord, made its way from his mouth to his heart.
The stone found what it knew (though the Sun didn’t know) was there: an empty pocket the exact same size and shape as itself. It slipped easily into the space, fit perfectly, and in that moment, it was as if the Sun had eyes, which opened.
Bright white bands of heat passed across his skin in radiant currents, weaving and looping over and around its broiling, ancient eddies. Years fell away and he became like a young child star. The universe was new, wondrous and adoring.
This time, however, that love was profoundly humbling. Awed, warmed, honored, he heard what had been the ceaseless noise and chatter congeal into a deep, exquisite note. And rising from that perfect note, a hush. From deep within that hush swelled another note, just as sweet, and from that, another absolute hush.
The progression continued, a rhythm emerged, and the sun wept and sang for joy.