Daybringer

I've always liked night-time. Somehow there's something peaceful in the calm and quiet of the dark, the chirping of the crickets, the self-assured smiles of the stars. Night time, in a way, bring the end of one day and yet it also starts the next. Once night comes, you have the option to stay awake and enjoy it, or go to sleep in anticipation of tomorrow. Either one is fine by me. I just like it when night comes.
Things look friendlier in the dark. People may feel that's a contradiction of sorts, but I think things look friendlier at night. Nighttime covers up the wear and tear of the daytime; outlines of familiar places are all you can see clearly. You don't have to see the stains on the sidewalk, or loose siding, or the litter people seem to leave wherever they go. It's night, it's dark, and all you can see are the shadows and the sky.
Night brings hope. Sure, it's an ending, but aren't endings just the dawn of a new beginning? Isn't the night just a portal to another day? It's a promise of a new chance at life with the coming dawn, a promise that the past will remain the past as long as you allow it to. It's a promise, a gift, a new chance at life, an ending to the past and the dawn of the future.
As they say in Phantom of the Opera, "Surrender to the Music of the Night." It can be depressing, or it can be uplifting -- it's all in what you make of it. You can choose to focus on the dark, or you can see that the world is still very much alive. You can curse the silence, or you can listen the the quiet sounds of life that go unnoticed when the sun shines. The crickets and the field mice have their stories to tell. Be quiet. Listen. You'd be surprised what you can hear.
I love the dark, I love the night, I love the sun, I love the day. I can make do with what I have. And right now, when it's dark out, and I can hear the crickets outside my window and the lonely whistling of the trains, I can honestly say that right now, at this moment, I love the night.
Beautiful, forgiving night.