Nighttime Has No Voice Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Slithering down mountainsides in the dark, looking to
moonlight to get me through.

Stars doing their part, watching over earth, generating
the peacefulness of another night.

Realizing the beauty of a darkened evening, taking me
into step with a gentle whisper being carried through
the atmosphere.

A breeze, silent and invisible keeping it's vigil,
preparing everyone for the night's ebony beauty that
has no voice.

Choosing to portray signs of nature and life, holy and
delicate, nighttime comes upon us once again, reminding
everyone that day has ended.