Night – 12.1

Night is a little nose pressed against mine, waving back and forth in eskimo kisses, in a desperate attempt to stall bedtime for just one minute more. Strong, little arms, wrapped tight around me in a hug. My child’s voice saying “I love you, Mommy.” And so melts my heart.

Night is two brothers flinging verbal swords at each other when they are supposed to be sleeping. Lego pieces the bone of contention as the younger won’t listen or obey the elder. Too keyed up, adrenaline from the rowdy tubby time still flowing through their veins . . . And their mother sits in the living room desperately trying to maintain (regain) composure… (Every time I raise my voice I wonder what the neighbors think.)

Night is dusk being slowly edged out by darkness, as it falls down from the sky. I raise my hands to the sky and greet the stars as they gently pierce the black expanse. Here in the city, the night has its own gentle rhythm. Cars flowing across the interstate, hurtling towards their destination. Over the breezes I can hear the music from a neighbors apartment — all these stories, all these people living their lives, chasing their dreams, all bound together by an address  . . . yet I know only 6 of the resident of these 8 buildings by name . . .