This Time of Night
I like this time of night. The house is quiet save for when the wind blows the aspen branches too close to the window. They scratch to get in. Maybe they don’t want to get in at all but are simply asking for attention. Have you noticed our new buds?
The night is quiet save for the occasional breeze gently massaging the larger pine trees up the hill. What a warm sound it makes. But the night is not dark. Not yet so very dark. Not still. Not scary. Not unkind.
The night is inviting.
It is unabashed beauty that welcomes.
The ridiculously magnificent crescent moon enchants with an otherworldly hue. It slips behind the hills leaving only a golden glow. See, it says, I was here.
No stars can be seen tonight through the billowing pirate ships of clouds.
I like this time of night. All the day done. Nothing on the list of to do’s that can’t be edged over onto tomorrow’s. The house is still. The night a promise of recurring beauty steady in its offer if I will but walk out my front door and breathe it in – through my nose, my mouth, my eyes, my skin, my soul.
And be still myself. “Be still and know that I am God.” I seem to know he is God best in the stillness. In the quiet. When duty and obligation and responsibilities and taskmasters are silenced and the only requirement that remains is to allow my soul to rest and know that God is God. Well, let me be quiet then. Let me be silent. Let me be still. Let me breathe him in through my nose, my mouth, my eyes, my skin, my soul.
And know I am held. Surrounded. Know that he is God. Know that my silence speaks to him and his to me.
I like this time of night.
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