If you close your eyes in a loud night the the entire universe is open to however you wish to interpret. Our perception of this fragment is a blueprint or a painting in progress of ourselves; whichever your prefer it to be.
I opened my eyes in the night and looked out across the barren trees. Winter always seems like a sad and lonely coma for nature when green rarely exists and grey is the king on a silent throne.
The trees have fingers though and you can see them reaching for the heavens when the leaves have fallen into nothing.  They reach towards the sky in longing and patience and the stars are easier to see. The fading light from the long dead in the sky stretch out across time and space to try and reach the momentarily dead hands of earth and hold on tight.
It was beautiful and the drums behind my eyes pounded in tune with the orchestra of strings on the wind.