Whispers of the night - Without Ritual, Autonomous Negotiations

Whispers of the night,

Though its breeze

And stillness,

Long for a voice

Long for the impossible, really

Its requests simply ask

For a love of intellectualism

Amidst the sea of distractions

And confusion

And fear

And stubbornness

And refusal to see

Hear

And love

Yet,

Whispers of the night

Retain hope

Knowing all was once “impossible”

Utopian dreams can inspire some

Exercise the mind of some

Yet too those who think

Are forced to worry

And think for others

Whispers of the night

Demand much

Recognizing its insight is rare

And hard

Recognizing its brave army

Whispers of the night

Occur at night as not to burden all

Whispers of the night

Can’t get too loud

People fear whispers and night time and subjectivity

Whispers of the night

Have increased and decreased in volume

But remain audible and visible to a few,

Hopefully enough to save

While open to all, always

Whispers of the night

Resent, rather loathe

Humans desire to control

And cause perpetual silences forever

And forget their places in the circle of the universe

Our pale blue dot

So much to discover

Yet knowledge is feared

And hated

Whispers of the night

Long to keep discovering and sharing the

Whispers of the night

In hopes of golden choruses

Whispers of the night