The Hooters of the Night

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The stars of the night,  
The daydreamers,  
The late-night souls—  
That we are.  


Bubbling with fervent energy  
As the sky deepens,  
We are at our best  
At this hour,  
Even if misdirected at times.  

No matter what we do,  
We shine through.  

Early mornings—  
Unfamiliar territory.  
Our hours of deep slumber  
Are for the chosen few.  

We love the still quiet  
Of the night,  
A cloak that engulfs our very being.  
No interruptions,  
No interventions,  
None whatsoever.  

These golden hours  
Are ours alone,  
Ours to keep.  

Hours when creativity peaks,  
When dreams take flight,  
When discoveries unfold,  
And glories bask in moonlight.  


Alone time.  
Me time.  
Self-care.  
Self-love.  
We revel in it all  
At this sacred hour.  

Owl parties,  
Night travels,  
Late-night binge-watching—  
We are the best company  
You could ever have.  

"Unhealthy," they call it—  
Our habits—  
Urging change.  
We've tried your ways,  
But in vain.  
This is who we are,  
And who we've become.  

For...  

We are the moon kin,  
Bound to her rhythm.  
With her, we embrace the dusk,  
And with her, we fade  
Into the light  
Of dawn.  


We are the hooters of the night!  


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