Night Air

Night Air



The curtains move gently
In the late afternoon breeze.
Swans on the lake lazily lift their heads.
Later, cicadas and crickets will come.

I like the sounds of night best.
No power mowers, leaf blowers,
air conditioners or cars;
just cool darkness,

Lit by the moon tonight,
the swans sleeping,
bills tucked into their wings,
A gentle breeze embraces the heart.

There is a presence in the moonlit night
which will fill my emptiness with grace,
and soon you too will not be able to help it,
your song will slide into the night air.