2.20.2008

In the dead of night, she cries for the morning sky.

We leave on the light, but that is a pale substitute for the sun.

She screams and she cries and pounds the walls, but to no avail. Her struggles and her strivings can never speed the morning.

Oh, my child, the morning will come soon enough. But it will be as darkness to you unless you learn to rest in the night.

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