Brooke Forbes

There’s a time for sadness, at the end of the day, after consuming laughter and light. 

There’s a time for reflection and solitude, marking moments with a weighted dissonance. 

What say the to the elongated shadows, casting themselves forward, snuffing out the day gone by. 

What say the to exhausted limbs, stretched out on a welcoming bed. 

What say the to the heightening of other senses, of sound, of touch, of taste. 

What say the, to the darkness that follows you into the night. 

But in the darkness there’s a new type of warmth; a coziness, an inward-leaning glow.

It’s beats like a familiar drum – 

A soft crescendo of warmth and gratitude – 

Slowly dissipating into the hum of human silence.