The sky is black and the clouds are sparse.
My eyes drift up and away from this plane.
The stars are like freckles that smile at me;
I feel so very small.

Nothing below is awake.
The fields softly quake in a breeze.
Faint sounds of cars moving fast
I imagine waves playing with shore.

When I crane my neck and look up
the globe of the night cradles me.
I can breathe and embrace the solitude
as if the universe is listening intently.

The crescent moon paints a softness
to the deep darkness I wade in below.
It’s as if I could reach out and touch it;
a lighthouse beckoning me home.

I could stand in this vastness forever,
where the clamor of thought is blurry.
The chaos confined elsewhere.
I’m a part of this epic abyss.