Nighttime Light

Thank you can mean so many things.  It could mean thanks for the fine tidings or the good word.  It could mean thanks for telling the truth because sometimes that's all we need.  Or it could mean thank you for remembering me.  As night approaches, every shadow calls from a distance, enticing you with mystery and the unknown unseen.  It's like a ghost from the past is hidden in the darkness, no matter how small or large it is.  In it you find those terrifying memories that wake you up at two AM stirring you from sleep into a panic.  Sometimes the darkness scares you but it doesn't have to be that way.  Sometimes it's just a shadow, nothing more, nothing less.  There's no fear there, just darkness, and you want to reach out and grasp it, hold it, because it really is just the night.  But lately I've been enjoying the dark.  The way shadows play off each other, some black, some grey, others outshone by moonbeam and starlight brilliance.  They are the opposite of day in the inflection of their ignition.  Instead of lightning shades we have deep hued greys and blacks and blues.  I want to bottle it up and put it on my mantle and explore, it showing proof that night is safe, though mostly unseen.  And what of starlight or that shiny piece of cheese.  Without them the shadows wouldn't play with each other, dancing and boogying in windblown branches.  Without them there would be no wonder, no interest, no joy, just a black, blank slate and our austere lights to ignite the invisible.  Thank God for the night or whoever made it.   Without it there would be no stars, no moon, no tremendous galaxy.  There be nothing to jump out of to laughter or make us feel sheepish for worrying about.  So don't be afraid, let the skyline and stars comfort you.  It's all about perspective and that's from earth seeing out into a minute portion of an endless heavens.  Give thanks to the sky and watch the shadows play.  Inspired by a friend.  Thanks for remembering me.