As the days pass on and the nights become the unsung kings of the time the one person to shun it all is the one who will come to love them most.
The nights seem to beckon to us. To join them and enjoy them, to see the deepest dark within them and feel the dread and love that is born within it. We look at them and choose to fear, while love lurks deep behind a haunted veil and screams in pain when we forget it. But the nights beckon to her in a way noone can see. She walks in the night and feels the love hidden in the dark, whimpering and wishing for a new chance. So she takes the cold hand and infuses it with light. The light that shines upon all of us at night.
The moon becomes the beacon in the sky, people can see that love cannot just be passed by. We need the feeling that changes us inside, we need it to be to live in the night. The fear is then shunned, it is pushed out of sight, as we keep on hoping for the most beautiful night. But hope is not all that in the night it is born, what then we have all is the move and the thorn, that prickles the skin, make the blood run in a thin, line which we hope will bring us back to the rope. The rope that leads the way to the future that can say: "Oh all my loves that be, come with me and i'll make you see that I'm the one with which you want to be."
So we take on the night. We enjoy it's best sight. We see the new dawn and we hope and go on. Our hearts have been unlatched. Our own sight has been touched. What we want now to be is a part of the we. We want to belong, to all together sing a song, an ode may it be to the love that in the night, makes us all see that we are meant not to be me but to change and be we.
40 Years On and more on Substack
10 months ago
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