Thundering Quiet

I drove alone tonight. Under the sky field lit by the full moon and the reflecting clouds. Moonlit fields under a great expanse. The drum of the engine pounds against the air that flows past. Air cool but no where is the brisk of winter near. Smoke ascends from these great plains, a fire burning beneath the surface. The faint light bounces upon these plumes of smoke, a playground of which no man is allowed to join. These spaces are their own, years recede and come forth. The world turns. The moon comes out to play once more. It streaks its own light across the sky, revealing the barren places of this landscape. My eyes adjust to what little light escapes the heavens. A silence that speaks thunder. Few see this world with the view of night. A darkness that hugs every corner just as the morning sun reveals all there is. As the hours pass, light will once again break the evening sky, turning the unknown into the seen. Light brings with it the known; darkness keeps secrets, stories no yet ready to be told. Using the light given to us we must search for that unknown; sit, wait. And maybe as the darkness turns across the sky, we'll see that shining spark of light which was always there, until now an untold mystery, waiting to be revealed.