Enter the light tapping at my window
Before thought comes a storm relentless
Everything is all a rush of traffic
Swirling in circles around and around
Dazed by the rapid succession of movement.
The slothful nature of being lifts itself
Up and up from its natural surface
Bewilderment of the clock flying out the window
Reaching out to grab it, but alas a miss
Is it just a figment or is this deja vu?
Take that one step forward, do it,
Swing those empty logs upon the bridge
Cross the crosswalks to the rain room
And let the cold and warm waves crash down
Down upon the slothful surface that stands
So that it might escape the wild jungle
And let the animals loose from its membrane.
Dripping like a fountain, straight from the drain
Hairy sinews dangling across like weeds
The gardener trims the bush and hedges
Tows the dirt back and plants a new seed
When the storm has finally settled down
It is then that the membrane relaxes
Calmly, gently, opening the shutters
To let that shiny morning light enter.
Perhaps it were a dream, but it was not
For it feels a lot like sleep walking
If only it wasn't the truth in the dark.
Question: "What kind of things leave you awakened?"