[Poem] A Thoughtful Night
The night sky seemed clear with millions of starts shining brightly on the backdrop of black and velvet; the occasional peeping moon did much to add to the calm that surrounded the hill atop which a single soul lay with his back on the smooth but uneven grass riddled with dew. His gaze was fixed on the view above; he kept staring into the opulent darkness of the night sky. He wondered why they called it night and why it was synonymous to darkness in many ways. When night was so beautiful, so blessed with the presence of beautiful star and moon light.
It felt so simple, so cool and so giving. There seemed to be nothing wrong with the night. Yes! The colors were absent but weren’t they always absent anyways to anyone who seemed to be dumb enough to ignore them. He thought of many people going about their daily chores, not happy, not sad; basically nothing. What use is colors to people who don’t take any joy in them? He thought.
A cool breeze brushed his silk uncombed hair aside and made him shudder. He shifted back into his green bed keeping his thoughts aside for a while as he felt everything that nature had to offer around him. He could hear rivulets gurgling and singing as they flowed and the distant roar of a waterfall. He cared less about any trivial details at this moment because he was alone and himself synched to the only world he wanted to enjoy, no restraints, no rules and no policies to tell him to do anything otherwise.
The dead of the night had brought new life to his thoughts as the stars guided him on the way to a certain process of thought, the kind that gives birth to artistic masterpieces. He felt as if he was drifting away deeper and deeper into his thoughts. He felt strange as he kept slipping deeper effortlessly. He had thought before a lot of times but tonight was different as he did not have to think and make sense or calculate, he was just slipping, like sand through his fingers, like time through life.
His thoughts were blank but he had gotten deeper, he could feel that. Or maybe it was just the atmosphere around him, he couldn’t tell. He just kept staring at the cloudless night with all his senses tuned in to the nature.
He remembered the stories of the moon fairy and the rabbit on the moon. He remembered his mother as the breeze continued to caress his hair. A song that she would hum to him so that he would sleep, that now came from the rivulets. The shining stars were the assurance that she gave him every day that there was nothing wrong with the darkness around him and that he could rest and sleep. And as his mother, each night, put him to sleep, he would finally have happy dreams and wake up all new another morning.
The kind mother, the kind nature and the serene night.
He thought of her once again, how the darkest comes to light at the thought of her and how this lonely hill seemed home enough. He had a poem at the back of his head, that he promised he would always remember, for the night that he so loved, the night that told him it was time to put the worries to bed and himself to the path of blissful dreams.
When I come to a close, all lone.
For there is light and colors a lot.
I hate not what has been given to me,
But too much of all, I want not.
I want a lap to sleep so sound,
That the world would fade away in despair.
I want my canopy of cloudless night,
Under my stars that are always there.
Where they shine bright on blue and velvet,
Caring enough not to light up all.
But enough to show me where I dwell,
And whence I sleep, as I dreamily fall.
I want your song to sooth me down,
If I have any worries at last,
Your voice like pure rivulets and sweet.
As thoughts glide by, like time eternal,
As I live through what’s just mine,
A well-deserved sweetest dream.