Singing a song to the night.

To the rising moon, the stars, the clouds.

The ocean sings, too.

Without words or notes.

With a rhythm.

Reaching. Pulling back.

Reaching. Pulling back.



You have to trust it.

You can’t run from the darkness.

It comes and goes,

night after night.

But you can learn to hear the song-

The chirping of the crickets,

The melodies of the nightingales,

The calling of the breeze.



But to hear the song, you have to try.

And to try, you have to start.