There is a truth that comes out at night that shakes me awake, looks me in the eye when I try to look away. I used to hide my face from it, try whatever method I could find to sleep when I was supposed to. I fought nightly with insomnia for years and lost. When my children were tiny, I learned to engage with the torment of their constant wakings by being staunchly present to whatever the night might bring. This kept me kind to my children and to myself, although many mornings I would stumble downstairs in stupefied exhaustion and weep. Motherhood taught me the courtship of night, the slow and patient welcoming of its stark wisdom. Now when night speaks to me, I stay awake and listen. I am astounded by the secrets it whispers in my ear.
From 100 Words: The Beauty of Brevity. Word prompt: nocturnal.