I love the air at this time of night,

cool and forgiving upon my skin,

the scent of the garden leaves

and the heat of the day,

washed away by the soft gentle rain.

The birds have stopped their chattering,

Quiet for a time,

and the outline of the distant

building blurs for a while.

They say that ten is the healing hour,

when the angels listen to our prayers,

whisphered gently upon the breeze.

Loved ones not forgotten,

the lonely and the sick,

in our thoughts.

The smell of the earth is strong,

as people rest,

and the cycle of life continues,

Birth and death,

Morning and night.

Summer and Winter.

Into the light.......