The Quiet Hours of Melancholy

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Life often whispers, in the quiet hours, that somehow we ought to do better - that though we have loved, we have not loved fiercely, that though at times we have struggled and fought, so often have we settled for mediocrity and the mundane. That's why I love the melancholy of quiet hours. I love being reminded, as the breeze gently blows beneath the starry skies, that life was always meant to be lived to the full. There are many threads of this throughout classic poetry. One of my favorites is the simple poem by Langston Hughes:

"Sometimes when I'm lonely,

don't know why

Keep thinking I won't be lonely

by and by."

The melancholy of the quiet hours comes as a whisper that convicts the heart of all the cheap and simple things we have spent the wages of our lives upon. Most of us don't like thinking about such notions, dismissing them as idealistic fancy. But I cannot dismiss it. And why? Because the time is short. Life lasts for only a little while, and then is gone.

"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may

old time is still a' flying

And this same flower that smiles today

Tomorrow will by dying."

Robert Herrick

Language is a poor tool of communication compared with the melancholy of quiet hours. There is more to say -- things which speak to the tale of our lives and the stirrings of our hearts -- which cannot be expressed in words. To sit alone in a quiet park at night speaks volumes more than anything words can say. To stare up silently at the stars and let the night fill up and invigorate my spirit'by that action I proclaim I too can see the beauty and mystery in the world; I too can feel the presence of that grand and mystic scheme intertwining all of man; I too have felt the subtle tug of destiny rouse the spirit asleep within me.

Those feelings and passions are what draw me toward all the lonely places of the world and testify to who I truly am in ways that words can never proclaim. We speak of what we know and count what we don't understand as unimportant. But that which we do not understand could very well be the most important thing about us. If you wish to speak to me of things truly important in life, come and find me on a lonely cliff, wander awhile in the places where roads end. And though we may not speak, we will learn much of one another. Until then, I will continue to speak as a man content to watch the stars.