Is the light dimming?
Or am I going to sleep?
Slipping into a dream?
Mistaking evening for dawn?
Dropping the pages of my life
and picking up the scattered pieces
of me,
out of order,
like free association.
A child confronting the marbleized
veins of his hands
and wondering at all their tributaries.
A longing to be tucked in at night.
Afraid of the dark.
Wanting to go to bed
so I can wander in my heart.
Discuss reality with God,
and believe nothing is gone
but only waiting to return.
All the stars,
the crowds of people,
the seconds full of words and glances,
and prayers said on my journey,
until someone shakes me awake,
and whispers,
you fell asleep,
time to wake up,
it’s not over until the fat lady sings!