The cool night air caresses my face.
The dark blanket of night is torn and stained by the garish glow of the city street lights.
The moon’s opalescent glow is bullied by towering gangs of buildings.
The stars hang brilliantly veiled by pollution and our abuses.
Peace is sought as the city slumbers but broken by the snoring of machines.
In the scattered patches of silence, I can hear the crickets chirping their song.
Past the distant hum of machinery, a quiet reverie can be found;
Beyond the broken moments of angry voices that carry on the wind.
Straining to reach the silence in the eye of this storm
The city is the wild child of nature, gone so far from its home;
Abjuring with reckless abandon the earth that sustains us.
Man has made the night a threadbare cloak when it once donned divine regalia
Night has no dominion here, I long for a land where he is king.
A sanctuary where stars don’t struggle to twinkle and nature can sing her subtle song.
I seek a place of solitude in the wind that fills my ears and the distant wail of a siren is dissolved into the cool air. My eyelids aid the night in its goal sealing out the last remnants of false light and a blank canvas spreads in my mind. Freedom for thoughts to get lost and discoveries to be made.