The night, the sky, the stars. The silence. And more.

This is a sort of sigh of my mind, that, one evening, at dusk, suddenly and softly, has made me feel its slight breath inside me, sweetly and yet imperiously demanding to come to light, to acquire substance, by means of my hand.

I could not resist, I haven't been capable.

And also, I have not been able to thwart what this sigh has whispered, persuasive, to my ear: "There is only one place where I can stay at the beginning of my days: TriaxianSilk."

So, it is here, turned into real substance, just as it wanted me to do, despite what I had previously decided about such a matter.

I hope it may be appreciate and enjoyed.

The friend of mine who, even if wishing to remain unknown, helped me to correct this little piece with ability and involvement, believes that it is beautiful, just like the people about whom this small poem narrates.

I'm sure all of you will be able to understand who these people are, my friends, and, consequently, also why it was necessary that this little piece was to be published here.

**************

The night, the sky, the stars.

The silence.

And more.

It was dusk.

In the half light, the outline of her face was sweetness in shadow.

She had not noticed me, she could not.

Not in that moment.

She looked transfixed.

She was totally engrossed in what she was doing.

She was sitting and gazing down at the little head of our baby girl.

Her arms were holding her with firm mellowness.

The soft profile of her bare breast was hardly visible, but her expression was perfectly discernible.

It was dreamy, fully spellbound, as she watched our child gently suckling the nectar of life she was giving her.

I remained for a few moments to look at her and at the fruit of our love, united in one thing that was beyond me, but that with wonder overflowing with pride I knew could only exist thanks to me.

To my love for her.

To her love for me.

I withdrew softly, avoiding the slightest noise, the scene imprinted in my eyes.

It was a moment that belonged to me, perhaps, in a sense, more to me than to her, but I felt it should not be disturbed.

Couldn't be infringed.

I closed the door slowly and soothingly behind me.

I slipped quietly down the hallway, up through the atrium, to the front door of our house.

I went out into the garden, in the warm night of Vulcan.

I stopped and looked up, at the sky.

It was dark, yet weakly and diffusely lit with myriads of glittering and vivid flamelets that crowded its depths, to the north, south, east, west, from the horizon up at its top, in whatever direction the eyes could watch.

The stars.

In the silence of night, I looked into that shimmering sky.

Ancient, mysterious, arcane.

Unknown.

And large.

Immense.

Infinite.

Infinitely less than my bliss.

_________________________________________________________________________

The End

**************

The night, the sky, the stars.

The silence.

And more.