January 29, 2012
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#WinterSH27 night outdoors
it is a bedtime story told outside around a campfire, whispered so as not to disturb the sleeping birds. it is camping deep in the forest where no city lights can penetrate the blue of night. it is bats flying high in the trees, chasing slow bugs. it is children cuddled in sleeping bags fast asleep, too tired from the activities of the day to stay awake a moment longer. it is constellations high in the sky, the ones i know the names of, the ones i do not. it is one planet, brighter than anything else in the sky, save the the moon, upon which my dreams are wished. it is the moon, shaded by clouds or tinted gold, glittering or slivered, playing tricks.
night is for listening, i’m not practiced enough for the days. yes. only nighttime brings the quiet i need to be still. walks under the moon. lying on the cool grass watching nothing. thinking nothing. being. just being. because…
deep inside me there is a place of moon and stars, and of silence.
Comments (2)
I recognize the lines from one of my poems.
is this a protected post?
not protected. just didn’t change time stamp and i wanted you to see it since it’s a response to your reading.