The Night Angel

For Emily, for the idea even thought she doesn't know it.
Inspired by: A number of Josh Groban songs.

The night opens up.

A seam ripper tearing apart the ribbon of midnight.

Stars pour from the satin strip of darkness.

Flooding the world with wonder and light.

Night becomes day.

--

The stars split open.

Cracking shells of light, spewing fireworks.

Down come the meteors, night exists no more.

The ribbon of midnight has been dotted with light, filled with white.

Day takes its place, and with it, the morning rises.

The oceans churn and the water falls up to the sky.

The oceans move in currents upstream.

--

It rains on the ocean, and the water dances backwards.

Pirouettes become arabesques, our movements more fluid.

Water running and shaping, changing.

The ocean is filled to the brim but cannot overflow.

Life tries to touch it but it moves too fast.

The night pulls the blanket over her again.

The warmth disappears. The light dims. The waters become cold.

--

An angel spreads her wings and flies.

Across the ribbon of midnight. Across time.

She spreads her arms out, feeling the smooth charcoal

Night rippling over her fingers.

She is night herself, and time will stop for her.

--

But she has to stop.

An angel floats back to her place.

Settling between the church bells and the friezes.

She stretches her legs out and learns against the Eastern wall.

And waits for night to come.

--

Light has opened up and color comes pouring out.

Filling the world with a pallet.

The color dances with spontaneity, beneath the silvered sun.

Rainbows stretch for miles. And apples turn brilliantly red.

It runs across the world. And flies to the edges, until the angel picks them up.

One by one, and throws them to the sea.

--

The colors drown and then angel unwraps herself.

She pulls the nighttime ribbon from her hair.

She un-wraps the silken thread from her body, shielding the world in dusk.

She dances in her nakedness, though no one can see her.

She pulls the darkened stitches from her feet.

And throws them into the sky, etching the light away.

The angel sweeps across the sky, swirling in a cyclone of absence.

--

Soon she’ll wrap herself up and put her shoes back on

And rest again, as the sun opens up and the light pours out.