(also)

(and when the night is at its darkest,
a blue glow still lights up the room,
glides like still water on the windows
across the street,
and looking north
to the City,
the horizon dances in deep apricots
and warm red sun storms
because it lies just beneath the surface,
because when the night is at its darkest
it is still alive
and singing;
then it seems impossible
to ever live any other way
to have nights that are dark
to have days when the sun will not rise. 
With the joy of what is now
comes the terror
of what is intevitably to come.)