By Amy Caryn Meyer

Beneath the quiet of the night,

beneath city lights and sleeping street children,

beneath those fights of husband and wife dwindling into a restless sleep, beneath police sirens and calls for help,

beneath closed doors, locked gates, beneath babies crying.

Somewhere a father is tucking his daughter into bed,

somewhere a mother reads fairy tales to her children by candlelight, somewhere newlyweds make love for hours and friends arrive home drunk and giggling,

somewhere he is thinking about her,

somewhere she writes love letters to someone else,

somewhere an aeroplane lands and families are reunited,

somewhere she still says goodnight to the mother that she never met, somewhere he says sorry for not spending more time,

somewhere dreams meet and pain fades and tears smile,

somewhere we know all the people we have never met,

somewhere we open our hearts to the ones we could not love.

Beneath the quiet of the night, lie dreams under the same moon,

dreams of joy and connected beauty.

Somewhere we are all one.