The Midnight Sun
No wonder they call it the Midnight Sun.
It's beautiful, with it's edge sketched deep into the dark blanket. It's like the window that peers through from space onto Earth at night. Like the eye of a God of some kind.
Watching over the cars and buses driving along the roads at night; taking care of strangers as they walk in dark alleys; feeding the birds supper; guiding cats into refuge for the night.
Then if the moon is the eye of that God of some kind, then the stars are it's ears, listening to every conversation to the littlest bit. A helpless scream, a sigh of sorrow, a jest of laughter, a whisper of gossip, a silent smile, a child's bedtime prayer, an ambulance siren, a stray dog's whine and even the mere breathing of the people - the stars listen to us for that God of some kind.
It's true that they say the Midnight Sun follows us everywhere when we are under that dark blanket.
Mommies use to tell me that when I was much younger. At first, I thought it awfully weird, then I grew accustom to it and thought it a terribly thoughtful act.
But then, I realised that there were nights that there was no moon.
Then Mommies told me that the moon needed a few days to rest as well.
Then I realised that even that God of some kind would grow tired.
It's beautiful, with it's edge sketched deep into the dark blanket. It's like the window that peers through from space onto Earth at night. Like the eye of a God of some kind.
Watching over the cars and buses driving along the roads at night; taking care of strangers as they walk in dark alleys; feeding the birds supper; guiding cats into refuge for the night.
Then if the moon is the eye of that God of some kind, then the stars are it's ears, listening to every conversation to the littlest bit. A helpless scream, a sigh of sorrow, a jest of laughter, a whisper of gossip, a silent smile, a child's bedtime prayer, an ambulance siren, a stray dog's whine and even the mere breathing of the people - the stars listen to us for that God of some kind.
It's true that they say the Midnight Sun follows us everywhere when we are under that dark blanket.
Mommies use to tell me that when I was much younger. At first, I thought it awfully weird, then I grew accustom to it and thought it a terribly thoughtful act.
But then, I realised that there were nights that there was no moon.
Then Mommies told me that the moon needed a few days to rest as well.
Then I realised that even that God of some kind would grow tired.
Labels: gobbledygook, God
posted by stacey c. at
7:28 PM
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