I saw the night sky in a dream, dark but bright with stars. It was at that time when the sun is just fallen from sight, and the horizon is alive with a thin bright blue. It is such a passing moment in the real world I wonder how many have blinked and missed it. It is a time less than a minute, or sometimes less than a breath, but I have seen it in reality. In my dream, the ascending moon was a lynx for some reason—its light was shining through some distant trees and its pale color had somehow taken on the shape of that animal as it broke through the branches.
I sang: I love the cat moon, and the stars above me—my head was throbbing at this time, growing in intensity—and I love the . . .
And then I woke, realizing I was about to say, I love the dark.
The night is a beautiful thing.
Tale Told 