'Starry, starry night

Paint your palette blue and grey

Look out on a summer's day

With eyes that know the darkness in my soul

Shadows on the hills

Sketch the trees and daffodils

Catch the breeze and the winter chills

In colours on the snowy linen land

Now I understand

What you tried to say to me

And how you suffered for your sanity

And how you tried to set them free

They would not listen

They did not know how

Perhaps they'll listen now

Starry, starry night

Flaming flowers that brightly blaze

Swirling clouds and violet haze

Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue

Colours changing hue

Morning fields of amber grain

Weathered faces lined in pain

Are soothed beneath the artists' loving hand

Now I understand

What you tried to say to me

And how you suffered for your sanity

And how you tried to set them free

They would not listen

They did not know how

Perhaps they'll listen now

For they could not love you

But still your love was true

And when no hope was left inside

On that starry, starry night

You took your life as lovers often do

But I could have told you Vincent

This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you

Like the strangers that you've met

The ragged men in ragged clothes

The silver thorn of bloody rose

Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow

Now I think I know

What you tried to say to me

And how you suffered for your sanity

And how you tried to set them free

They would not listen

They're not listening still

Perhaps they never will...'

---Josh Groban, Vincent (Starry, starry night.)

I love the silence of the night. Have you ever woken up at night and sat listening to the silence of the night? Not in the 'scary and spooky' manner, but about how peaceful it is? Just imagine.

There is nothing except silence. Just pure silence, occasionally shattered by the sound of a fruit bat or the faraway bark of a dog. Complete, utter stillness. What a great way to end the day. I shall repeat what Mrs. Lee said to my class last year. 'Take some time out of your day, one or two minutes, and reflect. Take a step back, stop for a minute, and reflect.'

The night is a perfect time to do that. There is no noise, just the hushed whispers of nature. Everything is so calm, without the clamouring noises of your mother's annoying voice in your ear, your little sibling's plaintive voice at your knee, your elder sister or brother's commanding voice above your head. The night is like a pond of unbroken, calm water.

Silence.

Untouchable.

Sink slowly into it, immerse your mind and thoughts in it.

Connect with it,

the night.

time for remembrance, time for reflection,

hushed lullabies play quietly through the leaves,

drops of dew play minature violins through the soil,

while the moon watches over all,

silent, white, commanding.

watchful, protective,

placing a careful blanket over us,

calming, soothing,

the breeze a gentle mother's caress,

the only sound is nature's own sweet song,

the quietness of the night.

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