To calm myself, I need only two words: night sky. If I could, I would drink in the sky. I would breathe in the moon and stars. I would eat it all up. At night I see the sky in dreams with moving clouds, an eclipsed moon, scratch marks of falling stars, beyond mountains and behind trees alive with wind. A sky alive with rain, snow, dust, rainbows, passing planes, mosquitoes, kites, balloons, falling leaves, smoke, seagulls, a kicked soccer ball, wind turbines, a murder of crows, and a setting sun. A sky thick with color and life, a Marc Chagall sky, a Van Gogh sky. A sky of things rising up. A sky of things falling down. A sky waiting for the day or falling into night. A sky with a story to tell, but keeping its secret, for now. There will come a day when I will disappear into this sky as a child will run into the arms of his mother or run away from danger or submit to the pull of sleep.N