Hello, solar overparenting.

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You’ve loved the grasses all day long. Intensely. Before you even rose, you shifted under the blanket of the horizon sending a wave of your presence westward. The grasses felt you coming, and they trembled in the warming air. You leapt, eager to rise and shine and benefit the earth, fully dressed, over the horizon to look the sunflowers in the face and stroke the prairie’s head, “Don’t worry! Sun is here!”
	What could they do but nod? And wiggle their roots deeper into the quiet soil. Bracing for your Full Attention All Day Long.
	You watched from here and watched from there; you beamed between the leaves, to radiate life energy on every cell and chloroplast. “I’ll help!” you cried. And you never stopped. All day you showered warmth, the passionate heat of good intent toward each blade and tender stalk; you turned them over in your dry fingers to illuminate all sides; you never left them in the dark.
	But now it’s evening. Unavoidably the darkness comes, and you must sink again, solicitously singing lullabies all night up through the far side of the globe. The grasses curl their deep roots for some distance from your song. They breathe relief and stretch tall in the shade and silent cool. Such tending they’ve endured!
        You’ve tried your utmost best and shone,
	But growth is not on you alone.
	Don’t shine the lowering clouds away;
	The weeping rain must have its say.