Night - November 10, 2009

Sometimes the night alone’s the perfect sound,
For ears that are worn down by noisy lives,
Upset by sudden blasts of evening storms,
Uneasy from the ringing that abides.

The music of the stillness in the air,
The soothing song of nothing all around,
The comforting melody of the dark.
Sometimes the night alone’s the perfect sound.

Sometimes a darkened highway can be home,
When all that lies ahead remains obscured,
The only cares are kept nearby in headlights,
The road in rearview mirrors has been blurred.

Two headlights on a highway heading somewhere,
Spotlighting speeding white lines as they roam,
Dim moonlight glowing through lethargic clouds.
Sometimes a darkened highway can be home.

Sometimes the stillness is our only answer.
Sometimes the darkened highway’s all we see.
And if we had a God who was no mystery,
Indeed, what kind of God, then, would He be?

The music of the stillness in the air,
Nothing more than a whisper to be found,
The comforting melody of the Holy.
Sometimes His night alone’s the perfect sound.