THE YOUNG NIGHT

You know

The night is young

And there was

More poetry in the darkness

Than there ever was

In the light.

In the darkness

The unseen was ever so close

The many voices that travels through the trees

Whispering in the ear.

The sun was no more a ceiling

With which vision was bound

And the galaxies had opened up

And become perceivable.

The appropriateness

Of devices of foreshortening

Or perspective no more mattered

Because the knot of the tie

Had already been loosened

And fun and frolicking

Was underway.