The sun was blue. She had never seen it that way before, a bold, bright turquoise ball in the sky. Its rays were like droplets, like moons circling a planet, each another shade and equally brilliant. They were bold too, but small and hushed.
The sky was red, deep and brazen. The leaves of the trees grew up around her and she sought their shade, though there was no heat and no burning.
She climbed the mountain in three steps. The tallest point on the Earth and it fell to 1, 2, 3. It was an easy climb, as if the sky had been brought low enough for them to touch without stretching to make it so. It was within their grasp.
Once at the top, she gazed back down into the surrounding area to her friends. They were astonished, too, at the sight in the sky and asked her to pray to the sun. It was like a beacon of light above them all. But the word 'like' stung her ears and her heart. 'Like' is not enough and she instead called out to the Creator of the sun, the Creator of them all.
Her friends shouted out suggestions of what to ask for: world peace (which is always the first, though few of us are willing to allow it in our own lives), cures, knowledge, and temporary things that satisfy for a moment but leave you hungrier than before.
She was unsure what to ask the Creator. She did not know what to say, but she listened and heard Him. Ask to know me, just me. Call to me. I will hear you even if you do not know the words to say. You will know me. You will hear me. I will tell you all things. I will answer questions you did not know you had. I long to do this, to speak with you who would pray to the sun instead, that I painted, that I constructed. But I am the One who calls you.