It creeps into your mind unbidden hardly

noticed at the start, your subconscious

recognizes something fine, long before your

conscious takes a look, The night is still and

warm, with windows open for the air, sleep

drifts in corners, not yet strong, so visions still

can dance; again the sound, the wail, dreams,

imaginings take form; to lie in bed at midnight

in the summer, when fantasies catch at throat

and cling to inner eye, these are the moments

that imprint the warmth, the safety, the unbounded

possibilities of galaxies beyond one’s own small,

ordinary space, the yearning tugging at your heart

and at your mind; The music written in your

veins.

– XB