so late or so early already...

Imagine a dark city.
It understands nothing. Silence reigns.
And in the quiet bats like Ionian philosophers
make sudden, radical decisions in mid-flight,
filling us with admiration.
Mute city. Blanketed in clouds.
Nothing is known yet. Nothing.
Sharp lightning cleaves the night.
Priests, Orthodox and Catholic alike, rush to shroud
their windows in deep blue velvet,
but we go out to hear the rain’s rustle
and the dawn. Dawn always tells us something,
always. - A. Zagajewski, Mute city