silence is born at late night

 

                             Silence is born at late night, the silence that we sought

                          by day but could not find. Stillness is sifting the air, sifting

                             the stray spaces in our chests. This is a time for the late-

                           comers, the lone minds that seek life’s answers in the late

                                  parts of the night, whose minds do not rest except at

                               the break of dawn, who do not accept the blanker walls,

                              the finely drawn lines that dictate daylight’s draws. This

                              is for all my 2AM folks, lying flat with their backs against

                          worn beds, eyes front staring at the rough walls that frame

                   their small lives. This is for the dreamers by day, doers by night,

                              seekers of the extraordinaire that descends at late night

                            this is for my younger self, I penned verses by a dim light

            this is for the self to come, my worn eyes will look to that fading light.