Dance the night amidst the mist and
hover cloud above the earth;
sing the streets in silent vigil,
sleep the world aright.
Water soil, the dew of nighttime,
watch the sleeping grasses grow;
let the nocturne song surround you
as you come and go.
Rain falls on the just and unjust;
nighttime falls on both.
Woken by the same song’s sunshine,
lift us both to grace.
The Consolations of Writing 