Night

It is the story of a night,
a night full of bliss,
a night so serene,
a night never to be missed.

The first souvenir of that night,
that was gifted to my mind,
was a whooping, white pumpkin,
mottled, but with a halcyon shine.

The moon shone from the clouds,
and I could see my skin much brighter,
as it spread its silver across the field,
my heart felt so much lighter.

The winds were so still,
they bore the spirit of silence,
no stir through their waves,
they were flowing with no pretence.

There was a leaf holding a drop of water,
which curled the silver on its crystal face,
it looked so clear, I could see my eyes in it,
a thousand dreams brimming, right on its surface.

I could hear the silence speak,
words of glory in my ears,
But it also spoke of the times unknown,
that I had spent in the yesteryears.

Those times felt soulless,
and the winds felt untouched,
there was no trace of any senses,
as I felt unclutched.

It was a night of few earthly hours,
a few moments of freedom from despair,
and as it passed with the first rays of dawn,
I felt like I was now sitting elsewhere.