With the night air
The cicadas welcome
My tired mind with
Their incessant
Fanfare that
Slow and present
Realization that
The night is solely
Beautiful to me
It has in itself
A love for me - mine -
My own
There is just
This waking gift that
When all
Has been done
In a day I can come
Home into nothing
More than the
Outer air and see
Touch taste smell
The sound of
Consolation and
Peace knowing
Full well that the
Night is in love with
Me and I with it.
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