Tuesday, 21 March 2017

Midnight talkers

I can't wait for the night to kick into the air. The drop of the line engages. When my sister groans  in bed and wondrous dreams will fill her head. The moons soars up and soon the stars follow. I listen to the noise of the world around me. I turn to my notes for a better view.

I hear the song of the sky and the rhythms of the earth. Calling me, reaching out, wanting me. I squint, use street lamps to see, be silent, sit in bed.

I feel the thrill of the air, my curtain flapping open, the sense of being alone. You can not get the blood-tingling enchanted feel of it all. The sound of silence, is the ember of a new song.  The faster I scribble hieroglyphic in to my chronicle, I am feeling bizarrely extravagant because I don't want to miss out on anything.

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