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Written in pjs on the back of a library receipt whilst spacing out the window in broad daylight.

Midnight blooms, and with it, stars.  They blossom to light the way for the moon's grazing path, only to sink beyond the very horizon that it was born from.

No shadows lurk nor skulk from clouds barring the radiance of the sky.  Its rays reflect off of dew drops, giving the vain moon satisfaction from all its new mirrors.

Liquid light shines upon trees, caresses the dark landscape, kisses the tender young flower buds.

All is quiet, leaving Sky and Earth to contemplate the cosmos, which are very active this time of night.

Stardust trickles and flits and darts between celestial orbs, giving off squeals of delight.  Meteors give chase, colliding with thunderous roars and tinkling laughter.

Comets dance as only comets know how, through their everlasting night.

Storms rage with all their soundless fury, sucking dry all light to come, and only giving empty darkness in return.

From galaxy and to the next, Knowledge passes on its wisdom from generation to generation.