I don’t think I got the blood to be an “early bird,” I’m not alway the quickest to greet the morning. It feels like I’m giving a Seinfield routine, there is day guy and night guy, day guy has to be up and dealing with day, while night guy is full of energy, he wants to go out. So night eventually will over and day guy has to face the morning. Night guy sees the day and says not my problem, that’s day guy’s route, I’m only in charge of the night time activities.
The night is always inspiring, I am driven to create and be up with the moon and darkness. Wild thoughts after midnight; maybe the silence of knowing that majority of everyone is asleep gives me room to breath and think about everything on the brain. I enjoy my time up, tip toeing around dreams in between writing poems and posts, fighting sleep to be more alert. I envy the early bird, the nights of mystery, I envy those a bit more.
Outside, falling star
A billion Suns far away
Hopeful, wishful stare.