The roar of the day gives way to the peace of the night time. The only time when I have free reign of my thoughts.
I fight the urge to sleep some nights. In bed, through t’my window the ambient glow of moonlight. The cool air hitting my skin. I hear nothing but the sounds of rustling leaves and the occasional far off sounds of mountain highway.
The day is a constant roar. Agendas vying for my attention. Real and imagined pressure consuming my thoughts. The race to and fro. The nagging, laughing, and unleashed sensory barrage of empty intellectuals takes its toll on my psyche. I play the game for another day and long for night.
In this brief respite, before the sandman holds sway, the day is distilled down to what matters and the rest thrown into the ether on to the heavens.
The sandman knocks, I now set sail for dawn.