Thousands of people,
walk in silence.
Some with candles,
flowers.
Some with sadness,
on their backs.
All slowly heading,
in the same,
and right direction.
To the south,
they say.
Carrying on slowly,
peacefully.
The moonlight,
whispers.
And the stars,
dance.
Until finally,
eventually,
They reach it.
Content,
satisfied,
the people sing,
softly into the night.
So as the Owls say hello,
they wake up to the light.