I imagine what it must be like to…stay still in the night

There are no birds or anything, or none that I can see. I imagine what it must be like to stay hidden, disappear in the dusky nothing and stay still in the night. It’s not sadness, though it may sound like it. I’m thinking about people and trees and how I wish I could be silent more, be more tree than anything else, less clumsy and loud, less crow, more cool white pine, and how it’s hard not to always want something else, not just to let the savage grass grow.

~ Ada Limón, “Mowing,” from Bright Dead Things: Poems


Photo: (via Hidden Sanctuary)

It’s been a long day

paul-apalkin

Here is what I love about the brain:
How it remembers.
How it sews what soft it can
into a blanket for the nights
when I am cold with trouble.

~ Sean Patrick Mulroy, from “The Offering” in Tap Lit Mag (Fall/Winter 2016)

 


Notes:

I do not dare breathe / Or move

harvest-moon-wheat

The moon drops one or two feathers into the field.
The dark wheat listens.
Be still.
Now.
There they are, the moon’s young, trying
Their wings. […]
I stand alone by an elder tree, I do not dare breathe
Or move.
I listen.
The wheat leans back toward its own darkness,
And I lean toward mine.

I would rather be a superb Perseid meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow

Perseid


Notes:

  • Image Source: The Sensual Starfish.
  • Everything you need to know: Perseid meteor shower.
  • Post title adapted from Jack London quote:I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.”

At two a.m.

night-insomnia-mistakes-regrets

At two a.m.
the sky is patent black
and I stand at the center of all my mistakes.

~ Jill Alexander Essbaum


Credits:

Gotham 7.5k

new-york-city-photography
“Imagine leaning out of an open door of a helicopter 7,500 feet over New York City on a very dark and chilly night… And seeing this…”

Check out the entire series of photographs by Vincent LaForet here: Storehouse.com


Thank you Rachel.

3:00 am. On top. Or under.

Harding-Meyer

The hours between 12am and 6am
have a funny habit of making you feel
like you’re either on top of the world,
or under it.

~ Beau Taplin, the hours between

 


Notes:

Wondering, a beginning or an end

dawn

The blue river is gray at morning and evening.
There is twilight at dawn and dusk.
I lie in the dark
wondering if this quiet in me now
is a beginning or an end.

~ Jack Gilbert, Waking at Night


Credits: Poem Source – Whiskey River. Photograph Source: Thank you Carol.

Thief

art-gif-day-night

We waste so many days waiting for weekend.
So many nights wanting morning.
Our lust for future comfort is the biggest thief of life.

— Unknown


Credits: Image. Poem.

The End of Night

the-end-of-night-Paul-Bogard…In our haste to embrace a 24/7 lifestyle that makes increasing demands on our time, nocturnal hours once reserved for sociability, reflection and rest have been usurped. “What art thou good for … but only for love and fornication?” the character “Night” is asked in John Dryden’s comedy “Amphitryon” (1690). Today, not only is one-fifth of the labor force employed in shift work, but many day-to-day tasks (grocery shopping, for instance) are performed after dark. Silence and solitude fall prey to around-the-clock television and the allure of the Internet. Texting teenagers take their iPhones to bed. Burning the candle at both ends, we struggle to streamline sleep with the aid of plush pillows and prescription drugs and, in the process, impair our age-old ability to dream, a wellspring of ideas as inspiring as a starlit sky.

~A. Roger Ekirch, a review on Paul Bogard’s book titled The End of Night.


Credits:

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