night

Night,

when the stars 

cross the threads of the moon

and music climbs the stairs of the composer.,

we dream.

In a silent sky

when

lights below flicker in rooms filled with late night dreams;

coffee murmuring from cups on kitchen tables.

Alone with our dreams,

half awake,

we stare out of darkened windows to the lights of the city below.

Streetsweepers paint landscapes upon London streets

and

the night casts a glance at the stars

hoping to find the ocean that never ends.

We dream

within hot porcelain cups of tea and the aroma of coffee..

reminding us of cafes and conversations of loves we lost

In the aftermath  of our present;

within the aftermath of our lives;

running from the dream,

we hope to never pause.......