Night rests as we, the humans, lay awake.

To our left, an alarm clock.
We start our days,

Unaware of how lucky we are to be here and see Day.

We move forward,

Rhythmic, robotic.

Motions, the same motions,

The same story.

We do not look at the sun and say hello,

We do not say good morning to our Day.

We just move forward.

Unaware, unemotional.

Robotic.

 

Above us, resting in the sky

Night escaping the last hour of her shift,

Moving beautiful colors along,

A sea of reds, pinks, and yellows.

When she goes home to rest,

She will lay down and cry,

For Day looks so beautiful from her bed.

All blue and white,

And a sun in the sky waving hi,

Alas, they can never meet.

Forbidden love,

As if the Romeo to her Juliet.

 

Below her, the humans,

Gratitude slipping from their small fingers.

Money on their minds,

And a day to get through.

Yet, a soft voice pipes up from under the clouds.

Night listens closely to the sounds of a young woman.

She is lying atop her bed,

Her alarm clock blaring,

And her mind is running like a clock that just won’t stop ticking.

 

Tick, tick, tick

“Are you there?”

Tick, tick, tick

“Can you hear me?”

Tick, tick, tick

“I just wanted to say…”

Tick.

“Thanks.”

 

“Thank you for giving me this Day,

A chance to continue living in new ways.

Thank you for your sacrifice,

And all of the kindness, it does suffice.

You pull our tides, your colors bright.

Even though you are the Night.

Up, in the sky, a Northern light.

Guiding me,

Providing me,

Hope.”

 

“To Day, I say,

What a blessing it is

To live, and breathe, and experience.

And Night may I confess,

My lonely heart, my silent rest.

I fear I have become robotic,

Rhythmic.

Motions, the same motions,

The same story.

I do not know how to fix this robot.

Program, unplug, and start anew.

And so I say to Night and you,”
 

“Today I start with gratitude,

My heart soaring in the clouds,

Searching, plunging, knee deep in the mist

And all of the things I missed I do not forget

To be grateful for an Earth to lay on.”

 

“My mind, it searches,

Learning and growing,
As if a plant yearning for sunlight.

When I awaken, my only thought,

I do not want to be a robot.”

 

“And so my thanks rings in my ears.

Tinnitus, unite us

The plants that hold my cords,

Unplug, and love

The things we forget to thank.

The things we forget to thank.”