Words come often, late at night

usually without invitation.

Flooding my mind with new ideas,

and pressing obligations.

Demanding me to wake up,

overwhelmed with expectation.

with no concern for sleeping,

using my hands for it’s dictation.

Photo by Andrew Coop on Unsplash

I jot them down to ease my mind,

from their overwhelming voices.

Different ways things could have been,

questioning my choices.

*

Absent of control my mind willingly subsides,

to dreams, desires and wishful thoughts,

my hands simply must oblige.

Remembering things that time forgot,

moments relived routinely.

My phone in hand to document

like a well, fine tuned machine.

Photo by Ihthisham Mohamed on Unsplash

A song, a scene, a picture,

stir emotions that need releasing.

A cluster of words to rearrange,