Night – Da Capo al Poetry

Depleted

The restless city knew no sleep,
For it had known a three-month slumber,
And now its people wanted to feel
Alive. But with no sense of wonder.

Only the very few who’d learned
What it had meant to have less freedom
Had come to cherish each new day
With all its sunsets and beginnings.

And thus, the busy, crowded streets
Were no place for the tiny beings.
No, they were to be found up there,
On slender telephone lines, dreaming.

Dangling their feet above concrete,
Their eyes glued to the pearlescent symbol
Of Hope amidst the worst of times,
Eyes glued to one celestial being.

The crescent moon was their escape
From endless suffering and trials.
When nightfall came, they hopped up there
On slender telephone lines, sighing.

Fixing their gaze upon their Hope,
They wished the sand would stop its trickling…
For one night only… Maybe more…
The hectic world had left them weary…

How fine would then be everything…!
If they could dream and drink in magic…
If they could have the time to breathe
And get back to their truest selves and…

For now, one night was just enough…
The tiny people kept on gazing.
The chirping crickets, the linden trees…
Oh, it was June! And they kept on dreaming…

– Patricia

Misfit

The quiet girl was sitting at the window,
Gazing into the darkness of the night.
Only the ballads of the chirping crickets
Were to be heard under the pale moonlight.

She sought to find her peace—away from others,
While cheerful voices chatted endlessly.
But she was strange, silent and always awkward,
Never herself in their vicinity.

So, there she was, staring into the distance
At what could be her true welcoming home.
The darkness mirrored clashing thoughts and feelings,
As restless shadows conquered her—deformed.

Reality was crushing her entirely,
Weighing her down—her spirit growing weak…
It pained her greatly: knowing that she wasn’t
Just brave enough to not care or to leap.

She stepped over the window frame, deciding
To be one with the quiet of the night.
Velvety arms—the ever-growing darkness
Embraced her fully. The hour of midnight.

The ghostly moon, the pallor of the window.
That’s all there was. But out there, in the night,
A weeping willow could be seen. The misfit
Had found her home. Reborn. Forever white.

– Patricia

Summer Nights

On a summer night, the child
Gazed at twinkling stars above.
He laid on a golden haystack,
Listening to crickets chirp. ǀ Fine

Suddenly, from veils of darkness,
Falling stars began to dance,
Heading towards the world of humans—
All asleep but one who dreamt.

He jumped down, touching the soft grass,
And began to chase the stars.
He would find out where they landed
And would watch their final dance.

So, he ran through fields of harvest,
Through the village, past his home,
Through the mountains and the forests,
Only looking to the sky.

Never tired, filled with wonder,
He gained strength from watching them.
Barefoot, but not feeling sharp stones,
Not needing to stop or rest.

He ran till he reached the sea shore,
Standing now on golden sand,
Where water began its kingdom,
Where the bright stars would soon land.

He watched as they touched the water,
Disappearing in the night.
One by one, their first encounter
Was also the last of this kind.

When the last star met the cold waves,
It was dark again on Earth.
Gazing back at constellations,
The child followed them back home.

He laid down between his parents,
In the quiet of their home.
Just before the sunrise started,
Just before the crack of dawn.

He was fast asleep before that,
Entering the world of dreams.
Till nightfall would come back once more,
He dreamt of stars being born.

Da Capo al Fine

– Patricia

Canvas in the Night

The night sky once again awaits
To be a canvas of the soul;
A world of dreams it will portray,
As all the stars I now control. ǀ Fine

I take a breath and paint the moon,
A regal vision—only her;
A smile now waltzes on my lips:
The queen will reign from dusk till dawn.

I take the paintbrush yet again
And paint a dance of falling stars;
They travel to the ends of Earth;
Although new-born, they travel far.

I paint a sea of gleaming gold
And watch the waves send warming light
Towards the world I hold so dear,
That’s never been so still and bright.

And, star by star, my universe
Turns into galaxies of dreams.
I paint and paint—the canvas full,
Awakening forgotten tears.

I paint until the morning sun
Sends rays of daylight from afar.
My painting fades, I close my eyes;
I will return and cover scars.

Da Capo al Fine

– Patricia

Day and Night

The sun descends from amber skies,
As warriors of light arise,
The queen of night and all her stars:
Another day is ending.

A reign by day and one by night,
As light and darkness both unite,
A precious touch, such rare delight:
A border where all dreams are.

It lasts but seconds, then is gone,
A passing sign of what’s been done,
A sacred proof of what’s begun:
The universe is waiting.

And thus the reign of night begins,
Collecting thoughts, collecting dreams,
Transforming them: bright, hopeful gleams
Of joy, of life, of wonder.

– Patricia