In That Moment

In the solitary silence of the night I hear the world whispering to me. Words not quite distinct that I strain to hear. Words I yearn to hear. Words I faithfully scribble down, one after the other, knowing that in the end they will rearrange themselves into the order that was proscribed by the daylight as too...too much, too loud, too emphatic, too.

Words too loud for the morning, too garish for an afternoon, too subtle for the evening. Words whose meaning is only apparent in the twinkling of the stars, or diffused by the moon's cold light. Words whose empathy knocks the feet out from under those who stand too solid, or drowns those already too heavy when submerged by all the emotions that flutter around on a sunny day.

In the stillness of the moment, those who lean a faithful ear close might hear the sound of a million hearts beating as one when the mind is not engaged and the ego is firmly under wraps; a moment when time stands still and silence sings the secrets no man remembers later on.

But the words mingle with the wind and the rain and the breath jumbles them all together so that the old familiar patterns become unrecognizable and I believe they are new.