It’s late evening and I’m waiting for the stillness of the night to sweep over my home. There is a voice calling me to the quiet hours and the side of me long neglected. I had almost forgotten who she was this person inside me. Listening to everyone else and facing down the issues of everyday life leaves one little time for listening for the things that come quietly. Often those things come in a passing moment, or in reflection on a day gone by, sometimes in dreams or in a quiet night sitting in the soft light of candles. Those times are spent speaking the words deepest in my soul, hidden from the day but whispered into the night. Tonight is such a night, the candles set, the space cleared but the spirit and soul pouring over with all that needs to be spoken. The hours of night are my own time, mystical and free, my time to be heard and to be answered, dark yet filled with light, quiet yet filled with words.