I Love the Night
I must be nocturnal. I love being awake at night when everyone else is asleep. There is something magical about the feeling of being the only one awake at night while the rest of the household sleeps. Ever since I burned the midnight oil in high school and into University, I've continued to revel in the peaceful tranquility of the night.
Back in Melbourne, I would wander down to the 24-hour Coles being manned by the graveyard crew. It's nice being one of the few customers roaming the aisles and not having to queue up at the cashier. The other part of the night which I have never been able to experience back here is the silence. I have never realised how quiet the night in Australia is until I'm back for the holidays - suddenly, I remember what it means to have insomnia because the night is too "silent".
The other thing I never hear is the breaking of dawn - when the birds come out. It is a sound I never hear during the day because they get drowned out by the hustle and bustle of city life. It is a sound I can't remember hearing in Malaysia because the city never sleeps. It merely slows down and then it speeds up again, and the sounds from the birds are never ever heard.
Anyway, the night described in the following poem is not a night in Malaysia, but a night in Australia back in the days when I would stay up late to pull an all-nighter before an exam. As I said, in Malaysia, the nights are never silent. There is always the hum of the air conditioning, the occasional car or bike driving in the distance, and - these days - the sound of my husband snoring...
Back in Melbourne, I would wander down to the 24-hour Coles being manned by the graveyard crew. It's nice being one of the few customers roaming the aisles and not having to queue up at the cashier. The other part of the night which I have never been able to experience back here is the silence. I have never realised how quiet the night in Australia is until I'm back for the holidays - suddenly, I remember what it means to have insomnia because the night is too "silent".
The other thing I never hear is the breaking of dawn - when the birds come out. It is a sound I never hear during the day because they get drowned out by the hustle and bustle of city life. It is a sound I can't remember hearing in Malaysia because the city never sleeps. It merely slows down and then it speeds up again, and the sounds from the birds are never ever heard.
Anyway, the night described in the following poem is not a night in Malaysia, but a night in Australia back in the days when I would stay up late to pull an all-nighter before an exam. As I said, in Malaysia, the nights are never silent. There is always the hum of the air conditioning, the occasional car or bike driving in the distance, and - these days - the sound of my husband snoring...
I love the night.
I love the night,
Its peaceful serenity,
Its calm reflection,
Its silent stillness.
I love the night,
Not a sound to be heard,
Not a car, not a voice,
No music, nor disturbance.
I love the night,
The carefree sensation,
Of boundless time,
And freedom to wonder.
I love the night,
The cover of darkness,
The tranquil moments,
The velvet silence.
I love the night.
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