Phantasmagoric Night

January 8, 2011
At an hour late in the night, my eyelids felt not time’s gravity.
The stars shone luminously in the sky like scattered diamonds.
The moon’s romantic glow in the black, velvety blanket above
added to the phantasmagorical beauty of the outside world.

The habitual croaking and chirping tonight was melodious;
the nocturnal sounds added to tranquility of the beautiful night.
A shallow pool of water, confined by lopsided stones, lay placid;
the gently undulating surface of the pond reflected the moonshine.

I gazed in admiration of nature’s commonly overlooked beauty.
The visible beauty and the decay affected me in the same way;
nature is not perfect, and that is only natural-
Each sound and each sight was beautiful in its own way.

Time had not stalled to indulge in nature’s rich beauty;
the stars had disappeared as is they had dissolved into the sky.
Morning kissed each blade of grass in the all-embracing meadow.
And in the background of the meadow stood tall mounds of earth.

Beyond the sloping hills sprawled the immense horizon.
Like an artist’s canvas, colors were streaked across the sky.
The morning’s pastel hues of pinks, oranges, and reds
were discernible in the far distance through the morning mist.

Dawn had approached, as night’s darkness turned to day’s brightness.
The shady moon had been replaced by the radiant sun.
People had awoken from their dreams and prepared to enter reality;
the phantasmagorical beauty of the night does not last all day

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