31 March 2015

night silence

Darkness is my favourite hour. It creeps over the world and swallows up the sounds of the dry and miserable day, as we flutter back and forth between doors from one place to another, like dried leaves caught in the wind. Darkness is my favourite hour, because it can reset the sky, that blank, empty canvas, and reveal a new painting for us to follow. Filled with stars and moons, and flying planes and faraway rocket ships, the night sky sings to both child and man. Adventure -- come with me. I see that airplane and I want to get away too, back to another world, to a new, undiscovered place -- anywhere but here, I think. Anywhere, but here.

Darkness is my favourite hour; because it is always consistent. It is always silent. It always behaves. The world becomes silent when darkness grows, and in the winter that silence is stronger than in the long, hot summer. But we love those summers, just as we love the winters. Night time is the lonely hour, when one can sit awake at 1am and think endlessly. Awake and dreamless, I think. 1am, again and again. The night sky is there for me and I watch it calmly and play my dreams up on it. It's the centre stage for my imagination, the perfect playground for my restless mind. Awake each night, alone in the silent world, I'm in love with this time of night; my favourite hour.