From a sun to his father:
Were it not for your warmth...
I wouldn’t be as bright. And my own warmth wouldn’t be felt as strongly.
All the things I radiate are because of the many things you hold dear and passed on.
You are responsible for my fiery side. (And my gaseous side.)
My intensity is yours. The flares and glares and glimmers.
And as I rise and set and rise again, I know one thing to be a constant;
I love you to the moon.
Happy birthday, dad.