One and the Same


I always thought of the night sky
as something shy,
coming out
when people were going in.
Then I thought that it couldn’t be true.
How could something
with so much influence
be so afraid to speak up?
Then I figured it out.
It wasn’t quiet.
It just had a different way of speaking.
I mistook its coming out
when few were there
to admire it
for something
contently quiet.
When it was really something
unapologetically loud.
It didn’t look to perform.
Only to be loved by the people
who were there in the light
and stayed for the darkness.
By the few who embraced
its shadows
and adored its voice of ink.

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