The title points to Psalm 19, which says that day after day the heavens speak and night after night they reveal knowledge. Bonta's short poem takes that idea of the sky speaking and turns it strange. Here, night doesn't offer knowledge. It presents morning the way a stage presents a scene, and what the scene shows is "the still of the void."
The final lines carry the shock. Night, called "she," has let this stillness "drop / into me." The speaker doesn't just look at the emptiness. It lands inside them, like something dropped into a well. The word "drop" suggests a quiet, weighty fall, and the poem ends right after it, leaving the speaker holding the feeling.
The mood is hushed, awed, and a little unsettling. The speaker seems less frightened than stilled, as if dawn has revealed a vast calm that is both beautiful and hollow. The theater image adds distance, as though the world is performing something the speaker can't quite step out of.