Night says that time has grown short. Your turning towards the true owner of infinite space and time has been delayed.
You speak truly, night. But what will become of this place?
Night smiled, “Did you think you were the one managing this place? Or have you begun to cling to it? Leave this place so that your soul may first purify itself a little. You turn and complete your task. My fear is that you are close to straying and becoming lost. Look at the moon; if it made a speck of a mistake, it would either fall there or into the void, neither would its measure hold nor would there be a path or return. But it has no ego. You leave this, that, first attend to your own soul.”
“Well, night, what about this writing? Is it right to write this here?”
Night said, “It is right for contemplation. But it will certainly not absolve you. The responsibility for everything you have written is yours. But those who remain abstinent also have a responsibility. That is not yours.”
“Oh, my companion night, can silence be a proclamation?”
“It can, if you hold to your word for its duration.”
“And how long is that time, night?”
“An unmistakable sign will surely come to you.”
“Alright, night, my unique companion, then this time is a time of seclusion and silence here.