What

of this umbrella called night

this cloak of mystery

so right in its wrong

a masquerade of demonic joy for some

while readying tomorrow's blossoms for others

this inevitable rejoicing in the peaceful blood letting of your countenance

Why

is the depth of our eyes

reflected in your infinity

the glitter of mammalian mirrors

so bright below the liquid cobalt of your nocturnal shroud

How

while enclosed in your comforting embrace

your warmth of cocoon

your breath of moonlit honeysuckle

does so much evil manage to manifest

While

Others knead tomorrow's sustenance    

and glimpse through windowed clarity

your crescent bangle

dancing slowly across the sky

before committing the harmony of freshly baked efforts

into vessels of sunlit deliverance

Tell us

about this choice

of shattering daylight

against the calm of night

this essential dawn

of our nourishment

suddenly awakened after sufficient respite

beneath your protective cloak

this enabling layered color of thought

bestowing clarity to the yet discovered

the yet to be embraced

the yet of the next epiphany

the Answers without questions