At midnight we are right at the center a medias in res adaptation of old story –a long haul of a distant tireless forest peopled by honey bears hiding darkly in bushes, with the mountains sleeping at the furthest view of seeing nothing ,an opaqueness common to all dreams.
You forget you are in an opaque night and dreaming at a black core of night. Your creatures are shrouded in a dark like bears that may yet descend hills when you are sleeping on river bank with sticks by side to shoo them away if and as they descend on sugarcane crop.
But at the end of stillness is sea’s hum. A brine of vast possibility rises to moon by aggregation of darkness in thought, a point you are neither here nor there.