something in the night

i awaken from the untroubled slumber of a ten-year-old boy. leaving behind dreams of spaceships and adventure, i sit up in my bed and listen. a call, soundless yet forceful, has pierced the sleep which ended another busy day. is there something special about this night? i am not waiting, as on christmas eve, for santa claus to fly by and magically encircle the tree with gifts. nor am i looking forward to a saturday with its endless possibilities of games and mischief. no, tomorrow is only thursday, another school day. but a feeling of urgency draws me to my bedroom window. it is as if a voice is calling to me, "come..."

i climb out of my bed and into my robe, following the night's whisper. i close the front door softly, so as not to awaken my parents. there is a chill in the air and i pull my robe tighter as i turn from the door. stepping out into the yard, i look down one end of the street and then the other. the neighboring houses are all dark. a gentle rustling of leaves is the only thing i hear. i know that i am the only person out at this hour.

whether by intuition or chance, i look upwards into the beauty of the night sky. above me are a thousand sparkling eyes, each looking down with interest, blinking in approval. perhaps no one else has left the comfort of their bed to see the stars tonight. i gaze up at the sky, leaning back and lowering myself to rest on the grass. surely i have seen stars before and the moon is common enough, but tonight i am captivated.

i don't want to leave, but i know that when i return to bed, my dreams will bring me the stars once more. reluctantly, i turn to go and hear another whisper. soundless as before, i am left with only a feeling, a sensation of somehow being thanked. tonight is special. it will never happen again. and even if no one else in the world sees it as i do, this night has been observed and loved.

perhaps the night gets lonely if no one is there to appreciate her beauty.