The night is in full bloom...
The first auroral glow banished the gloom in a slow, shimmering chorus. Only a few waning sparks remained—ghosts of the celestial. The violets and ambers that stained the horizon soon dissolved into a limitless sapphire.
This dawn-to-dark hymn was in full flower, its lyrics promising a bounty of color to my deep brown eyes. Yet, the verses also whispered of the coming tide—the inevitable dusk that rises to claim us all.
At eventide, I ascend the hills. I watch as the night tenderly embraces the day, whispering her to rest. There, I begin to tally the stars until they outnumber my thoughts. With no moon to rival their light, the vault of heaven reveals its raw, cosmic majesty.
The night is in full bloom.