Awake

The world goes to sleep at about two in the morning.

 I only know this because I work through the night. When the sun sets, it begins. Children with good family relationships eat their dinners and they start their routine of getting ready for bed. Animals begin to calm, and the nocturnal begin to stir. Farm animals move close together, and bird songs begin to die out in the lands surrounding.

The country becomes just a bit more quiet, loud noises becoming a sort of temporary taboo.

The quiet is chilling, but as I look out of my frosted window, I am met with a beautiful sight.

A deep purple sky, clouded and serene, lay in front of me. Its beauty is only interrupted by the darkened silhouette of our land's tree line. In the middle of my beautiful sight, there is tree in the clearing. Just one tree.

Its dark shape creates a sort of karma to the background. Sharp branches flowing out of its base seem violent and attention grabbing, like a gun among flowers.

This is my place, at two in the morning. This is my definition.

As the world drifts
                          down
                                  into
                                        sleep...

I stand in complete wake. Falling in love with this frosty, beautiful night.

The world goes to sleep at about two in the morning, while I stand watch.