there’s no moon tonight,
just littering galaxies,
there’s pitch darkness
on the path leading home
shadows grip the passerby
we are told night is no friend.

this night of unusual aura,
thoroughly cold and dreamy,
of hills surrounded by mists,
and a village amidst a relic,
dreams are not far away
the night sounds are lullaby.

flickering lights come alive
unnatural solar lamps glint
green forest and hills cheer,
myriad voices of insects
the bush is alive with tales
of light and many sounds.