Night strolls in like a stranger
with a book of stars in its cloak,
takes it out,

begins reading in front of the polished sky,
every stone weeps off its tough exterior.

Night's voice paints the color of deep rememberance,
vivid streaks make the canvas
sing, ancient eyes awake,
use the forest to stir the story up.

Night's light takes the white guard passing  and explodes it into more.

Pines drip envy.
Windows turn to waterfalls of light.

Halos form,
rainbows dance in circles,
tongues drop, thirsty for more.

Night's rhythm dives into blood.
Cuts the icy edge inside with the sound of wonder.

Heart pools into a vast lake.

Gaze into stillness.

Night's reflection wears your mysterious face.

Descend from above.
Bring the above to below,
and shine calmly to reflect where we come from.