Sitting alone in the dark, awake because sleep has fled, the shadows live. In the corner of your eye, a figure passes the window. Or is the cat on the ledge? What is it that lives in the darkness? Is it a nameless whisper that grabs your ankles when you’re awakened by a dream? Is it a lonely creature that only wants a friend? Is it a hungry swarm that leaves haunted skeletons, endlessly echoing their final words?
Listen, my friend, for I am the nightlight by your bed. I watch over you as you sleep, and the shadows are my children. Without me, there would be no shadows. They do not come to harm, though much they do hide. The velvety cloak of night masks the world to set you free. When blinded we are by hard-edged light, we cannot see potential. We only see what is. The black canvas of the night paints many pictures, both good and bad.
The shadows are the possibilities of the night bleeding into your world of light. Do not think of them as fiends and specters, but mischievous sprites, determined to mislead or enchant, it matters not which. If you take their hands, what dreams you may have! Is that shadow in your eye a monstrous nightmare? Or a fairy tale sneaking you off to magic lands? Who knows!