Silky brushes of warm, iridescent rays,
like lilies floating along the watery surface,
gently caress their master, the Sun,
as he prepares to sink down into his chambers,

glowing less,

burning out,


awaiting tomorrow.
But Day lives only for so long;
thus the velvet horizon welcomes the quilt of Night,
as she spreads her cool arms around the world,
to begin the seductive embrace
into the simple yet complicated law of slumber.

Night’s coverlet conquers the garish Day,
allowing its own pearly sun
to illuminate the sleeping world,
its eerie alabaster rays
dancing, dancing, dancing
alongside watery reflections,

stroking darkness,

chasing shadows,


concealing sins.
But far more implausible
than to see the lunar sun is
to gaze upon Night’s many children,
scattered over the perennial skies;
nothing could be so tempting.

I lay on my back, my mind spent and reeling.
The meditative spell does not lift
as the countless stars
disperse across the heavens,

enlightening,

startling,


mesmerizing.
Although Night stretches on and on for eternity,
as the celestial universe remain infinite,
my share of it comes all too soon to an end;
for Dawn is coming, the blessed mother of Day,
who shall take my perennial heavens away.