Most evenings I leave my window open, inviting the nighttime to make itself home in my room, keeping me company during the sleepless hours spent drawing, reading, or thinking.
Every time I blink, the stars, twinkling brightly against the sky, flicker at the same pace. My heart beats to the rhythm of the cricket chirps, my breath matching the smooth flow of the breeze. Each muscle, tissue, and nerve are in harmony with the nocturnal world. I gladly sink into the darkness, my soul intertwining with the muted embrace of the night.
I am most myself when the world is fast asleep. As the moon forges its path from east to west, I feel serene joy, at peace with myself and everything around me. Its pale face acts as my omnipotent mirror, shining in the middle of the sky, reflecting the recesses of my mind in complete clarity.
The sporadic noises of the night accompany my contemplation until I start to see the sun paint the sky with purples and oranges, drowsily washing away the ink the evening spread across the heavens, bathing my room in muted yellow tones.
My alarm clock rings, firmly signaling that the nighttime I covet has ended. The crickets go back to their homes as the birds soar through the air, joining the sun in a bright chorus.
I stretch, trying to shed the exhaustion that will hang on my shoulders today.
I can’t wait to tell the moon everything I saw while it rests.