It is as if God himself were calling me
The night falls still but the people keep playing
My hands freeze and my soul grows
It grows with the midnight light
The dark sky shrinks to white
It collects all ambient light and mirrors the thick ground
Tomorrow the children will play once again
And I will watch them sleigh from the window
The brightness of day blinds me like night
But the painting of night wakes me up with the birds
Each light-footed step is a mile in rackets
They pass over my feet like sands of an hourglass
I chip off the lucid melting icicles
Only to see them reappear under the midnight clouds
And they speak to me from Heaven
I comprehend they’re tremendous silence
God is in this bright place
He may depart by the busy morning
The gentle devil pushes my sporadic work
For he has never laid eyes upon the midnight sun
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