I find myself taking a moment, stopping...my dad passed away recently and there never seems time to simply sit and be with this. But on this starry night I’m looking up at the blanket of stars with the fire nearby thinking of him. Talking to him. It’s quiet, just the crackling of the fire and the silence of the immense sky. It’s been four weeks since his heart decided it was too tired to keep going. He died quietly in his sleep. Peacefully. Like this evening. He loved wood fires. I miss you Papa.
A.Hayes - NSW, Australia
The night was cool, but not to the point of discomfort. A comfortable cool. Her body lay still like the air that surrounded her. She noticed her breath, slow and conscious - finding a quiet satisfaction in the rise and fall of her belly as she inhaled and exhaled. The day was done. Now, she was alone with the night, alone with her thoughts. She felt neither elated or deflated. Do they call that content? She pondered.
M.Green - UK
In the quiet of the night, I sit alone and talk to you among the stars, waiting for your reply. Loved always, lost forever.
Let my soul float in the ocean of stars