Laying in the Darkness: A Reflection on Nighttime Encounters

The other night I did the funniest thing. I tried going to sleep without my phone. I started to wondered at what point did I stop doing this and why? It was so strange and familiar all at the same time. Like going back to your old prep school years later and having old memories hit you like a hot dinner plate.

The reason I started sleeping with the accompaniment of my phone was because I had started hang with night owls and I was intent on getting every message no matter how much sleep I lost. Haven’t gotten a full 8 hours since but I’ll never regret it.

Laying there in the darkness reminded me of when I used to meditate on my whole life at night. I used to do all my deliberating then. I thought about my day, the people in my life and my dreams for tomorrow. I was very imaginative but more naive than I would ever come to understand. I would sing songs with myself, give myself lectures, think of all sorts of unattainable situations. I do remember looking forward to it to an extent. But not for very long.

It was then I remembered how I hated the night when I was a child. I hated that it was dark and no matter how dark it was I would always see things. Things I couldn’t explain, not very well anyways. Only my mother and my uncle knew about my “sight”. Perhaps I watched too many graphic television shows or perhaps an overactive imagination. Either way it was a living hell to go to sleep and so I often didn’t until the late hours of the night and not without something covering my head so I didn’t have to see. It all began with a series of horrific nightmares. It would have with the same antagonists, same story arc but slightly different details. If it was a serial killer on the loose I always die first. If it was a tsunami, I never make it to the ship in time. If it was a murder mystery I always find out who the killer is just before they out me

By the time I was 9 the nightmares stopped but the lingering apprehension to sleep continues to this day. Even now as I write this I’m procrastinating so that I don’t have the time to gentle meditate to sleep, I would rather knock out than allow my mind to wander. I’m still working on curbing that feeling but for now. Long nights with my laptop or phone will be my ideal nighttime ritual.

What’s yours?

– Summer

It’s Like a Sunset

It’s like a sunset.

Everything melts together in harmony.

And as you watch nature retreat to their homes

You feel the sense that you are already there.

 

To brush against it is to take in the sunlight at the beach in the early morning

Every surface is the right amount of warmth,

Tender steps in the sand,

The first splash of seawater,

And the gleam that caresses your skin,

So inviting.

 

It’s as satisfying as the sounds of ocean waves hitting the shore

And as gratifying as the cool evening breeze that follows a hot afternoon

One could compare it to the feeling of the a.m. sun as it warms my cold morning skin

It has a calling as natural as your body rocking to a reggae beat

 

It’s like receiving your favourite childhood candy,

So simple, so sweet.

And yet the meaning runs much more deep,

Straight to your core.

 

But mostly it brings forth the feeling of sitting on concrete sidewalk

Warmed by the day’s sun in the moonlit night,

It continues to linger on,

Even when it’s presence has long since gone.

And it is warm.

Cheshire Cat

Cheshire cat grins.

A snicker that tickles your ears.

Eyes of that which can only be made when the land and sky meet.

Voice like a warm blanket to my cold and distant thoughts.

Blue now brightly burning like a beacon across any stretch.

 

A jester of sorts,

But never to be taken for a fool.

Though we both play the game,

I continue to be the joker.

Table built,

Cards firmly held in place.

 

Your move.

 

Incomplete sentences float in the air.

Lips bitten til they bleed.

Piercing close the truth.

 

Eyes grow hungry.

Will grows weak,

Battered daily by kind words.

Strengthened only by a lingering thread of faithfulness.

That reward will wait for me.

Though the imperceptible terminus is fast approaching;

 

Pussyfooting around becomes the state of being.

Guilty but true.

Want. Need. Right. Wrong.

The line as blurred by my conscious state.

 

Fun turns to sweet torture.

Solace waivers.

Rock grown spoilt,

Hard place a pillow.

 

Nothing left but to wait on it…

 

Bang.

Puesto De Sol

The sun began to meet the horizon in a colourful display of shades of orange, bursts of reds and yellows and clouds highlighted in pinks and purples

 

I would watch it go down every day

Over the city that I grew up in.

The colours would fascinate and inspire me

As the sky would slowly accept the metamorphosis

 

Birds would flock home

But yet I would stay till it was completely over

I couldn’t find it in me to move.

It silently compelled me

 

The melodies that float into my mind

I’ve been hearing since childhood

And I doubt will stop

Nor do I want it to

It reminded me of a time when nothing was wrong

Ignorance truly was bliss

And each day was a new adventure

 

Sincerely

I find it hard to put that melody to word

And that word to life

 

It’s almost gone now

The false stars have all turned on in the distance

To match the ones above

And though now the sky is black

I still am compelled to stay

To stare where the sky was once warm

And sincerely only grows louder in my head

As I try to match it with my heart

The Day I Saw the Colours in the Stones

The day I saw the colours in the stones,

I began to hear the tick of the Grandfather clock

Growing slower and weaker.

 

Always doling out sagely advice,

Advice that could only be considered

Divine intervention.

 

Though they shade grey

I always found his eyes to be the most beautiful shade of brown,

If one could consider that colour so pure.

 

I may not have gotten the full circle

but my segment has been enough

I watch and wait for the crumbling

My eyes will always water

My throat will always make it harder for me to swallow

As I try to force down the feelings that I know will only grow stronger if I try to touch them

 

Break down?

To be so selfish as to bring grief upon myself

would displease his nature

 

He has been waiting by the gate

Time nor place has dissuaded him.

Like a fruit with a thought

he knows when the time is right to depart from the leafy domain.

– Summer

Short Story: Shutters

As she felt the ringing of her alarm clock piercing her unconsciousness she slowly arose from her slumber. She sat up, checked the time on her phone sitting on the bedside table. She groaned at having to be up so early and then gave her best bear yawn and raised her arms high as she stretched out the remaining sleep the sandman had sprinkled on her the night before. She flipped the covers off her legs, put each foot in a bed slipper and sluggishly walked towards the windows. Expecting to see her usual view of firmament, she reached for the lever. But when she opened the window she saw darkness and two bright white eyes staring back at her.

– Summer

Short Story : The Village

As the sun slowly rose in the east, the people of North Village awoke to the sounds of nature which reacted to the sun’s warm rays. Birds soar across the horizon. Brilliantly green and orange tree frogs play the last note in their nocturnal symphony. Sunlight dances atop dew drops in the lush, green grass. To many other animals these are signs of a brand new day.

The day continues as many women could be heard whistling in their worn, wooden huts as they prepare for tonight’s feast. Shrieks and squeals being made by children in merriment and mirth as they play games in the parade grounds in the centre of the village. Young women could be found in the fields multi-tasking between gossiping about the village locals, harvesting crops for the feast and giggling over which young man they intend to marry. While some young men are  found accompanying their fathers and other males in the village as they sail in canoes out by the sea as the shore is but a short walk away from the village. They too would be laughing and enjoying each other’s company as they cast their nets for the catch of the day. While others could be found in the nearby forests, enjoying the thrill and adrenaline of hunting game.

As the sun begins to meet the horizon in a colourful display of shades of orange, bursts of reds and yellows and clouds highlighted in pinks and purples. Children are called back to their huts, young women brought in their harvest and the men proudly bring in the best that could provide them with.

The sun has now gone down and darkness sweeps over the small village. However, moods are at the highest point of happiness for all the villagers. As the tree frog’s symphony begins again, a large fire roared in the central parade grounds. Families from every hut gather with each their own food to contribute. The feast begins. Food is shared and devoured. Stories from near and far are told. Many villagers, especially the younger ones, socialize and at the end of the night men, women, elders and children take part in their favourite activity; dance.