If darkness were a cloak.....

I would love the taste of darkness if I could press my lips against its cloak and stick my tongue down its throat. I would wrap myself in darkness if it were a cloak, and wear it to galas of important note. I could wear it in the cold, and it would warm me. I could wear it in the heat, and it would cool me. If darkness were a cloak, I could slip into it naked and no one would know. I could dive into the ocean wearing only darkness and blend into the colors of the deepest waters, if darkness were a cloak. I could ride the winds of the night and fear nothing wearing only darkness. It would be perfect, if darkness was a thing that could be touched and wrapped around me.

So this morning the sun came and shooed away the night, which of course is the way it must be, but isn’t that sad. The sun always comes, bringing her bright light and hot rays. She brings life and nutrients, but she is nothing like the cool call of the moony night. The sun cannot compete with the darkness. The sun is all noise and fire, where the night is all quiet and calm.

There are things in the dark, too, secret and silent things that slither and creep beneath the lovely night. It is these secrets, little threads of evil and debauchery, of death and decay, of spirits and demons that attract me to the darkness. There are no secrets beneath the sun, not any more. In the darkness, however, there are many secrets. There are things that can touch the very bottom of your soul, grab it and rip it out. Then there are the other things that slip in, unwanted, and force you into their world.

I cannot describe these things, and perhaps in my ramblings I am in truth as crazy as the nightingale. But the nightingale loves the darkness just as much as I do, and so we are one in that respect.