Night in the village,
is unlike any other.
Fires burning in the huts,
the wind, still and listening;
the moon hanging -
a glowing faceless mask-
In an orb of stars,
evokes the supernatural.
Night in the village
Is jealous fireflies
darting between children
who run after each other
with burning twigs,
Until only embers remain
to confuse the fireflies and
amuse their own imaginations.
Night in the village -
After fires are put out -
Is heavy pennies on the eyes
Of the sleepless
Is solitude in the depths
Of unrestrained darkness
Is feeling like
a pinprick of soul
In the universe's entirety.
