Moon Glances

2 a.m.
Who writes at this hour?
All of the thoughts at this time
of the morning are so clear
with nothing else to invade the
uncluttered consciousness

At this moment, I can get passed
drippy faucets and haunting dreams
and anticipate the sunrise's contagious giggle.
On the pillow next to my feathered lump
are those promise-laced lips that I never noticed
to be so sensual until shined by moon glances.
In the hours of new days, a spirit lies stark
and empty with a thousand shadows.

3:11 a.m.
Then the ocean...flows by the sidetracks
much like an animated dream.
Gazed upon quietly, by a billion
starry-faced beholders. Stretching,
rowing, churning, lapping, embracing,
howling like a free-spirited wind
against a lonely bank. Gentle to the dolphins
reflective of the moon, stunning to the thirsty rocks.

4:48:
The stirring motion, the powerful vastness,
the undeniable connective quality of the sea's
musical flow, the complete immersion into the
liquid universe awakens the spirit, floats deeper to
inner clouds. Sleep aside, pour me into ocean's arms forever

Who could do anything but write at this hour?