“When it is day with thee, my friend, it is night with me; yet even then I speak of the noontide that dances upon the hills and of the purple shadow that steals its way across the valley; for thou canst not hear the songs of my darkness nor see my wings beating against the stars—and I fain would not have thee hear or see. I would be with night alone.”
[Khalil Gibran: Complete Works; Auszug aus: The Madman]
I miss the night sky.
In the city,
you can’t see much:
only the moon
and the very brightest stars;
the glorious Milky Way remains
unsuspected, unimagined
by most who live out their lives
within the city’s glare.
I miss the night sky.
In the grave,
the stars of the deathlands,
are few and faint and strange,
the last fading embers
of fires already extinguished,
and we who rise up out of the grave
are too preoccupied with our pain
to pause and look at the night sky.
[Darrell Schweitzer]