I ache for night,
to dance among stars
who don’t ask my name
or judge me for my eccentrics.
to dance among stars
who don’t ask my name
or judge me for my eccentrics.
It is in the fairy plum shadows
the harsh lines of worry
are air brushed into peace.
I’ve always been a nightling,
a forever child claiming
the moon as mother,
and the silhouettes of wildlife
my familiars, guides leading
me to poetry the sun could never write.
In the obscurity tomorrow
doesn’t stalk nor does daylight
insist I sit at its table of necessities.
Embraced by the quiet song of night
insomnia feels less a beast
and more like a fly that annoys
for a moment, but will leave
when it tires of me swatting it
away from what it hopes to feed on.
©Susie Clevenger 2024
Comments
a forever child claiming
the moon as mother,
and the silhouettes of wildlife
my familiars, guides leading
me to poetry…”
I share the essence of your sentiment here Susie. Beautifully written. 🙂✌🏼🫶🏼
" I ache for night,
to dance among stars
who don’t ask my name
or judge me for my eccentrics."
Yes, it is a freeing time, isn't it?
No need for pretenses in the night.
I like the idea that insomnia seems
like a fly that will leave. I share that
same fly sometimes & some nights really
struggle to bat it away. Nicely composed.
A lot I can identify with!
I’ve always been a nightling,
a forever child claiming
the moon as mother
Swoooooning.
I ache for night,
to dance among stars
who don’t ask my name
me to poetry the sun could never write"
Indeed, I often write at night, but with little of the benison your poem identifies. Quiet, yes, but with the guardians? Not yet have I felt that kind of peace. Your poem makes me yearn for it.
I too am probably a nightling child, with a preference for the calmness and tranquility I feel during the night-time's presence.
It is a place where dreams can be be achieved and creativity seems to thrive.
Something akin to a Robert Louis Stevenson view, through your wonderful poem...