3:30 is a truly bewitching hour. When the world is still and the breathe of a child ices the galaxy, feel free to cry up to the stars. Bargain with the cosmos. The hum and chatter of car motors, conversations both enjoyable and heart breaking, and disappointment seem to settle, like the haze over the valley. Still there and ominous, its a sigh of relief - if just for a minute.
The smog things, the atmosphere seems to desimate. Given a key to the heavens, the door is unlocked. That is when I lay back and whisper to the stars. I tell them my secrets, my fears, and my anxieties. They know what I can't say and take my tears. With no exchange of pity the stars take the tears and sparkle as never before.
Tears of joy mingle with tears of loss, of grief, of pain. A shimmering reminder that they have them, millions of billions of miles away.
No need to fear.
No need to worry.
No need, it has already been met.
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