At night the timelines shift and I must sift
details of urgent messages which, sent,
echo and shock me so I wake, alert
wide open, glad to put bare feet in dirt.
Early morning, after a true dream chills,
goosebumped and wide awake, it seems, thrills
anticipatory and wild should slake
hunkered down silent by this cloud-filled lake.
But intuition’s waterproof, I’m here
ornery and informed, ideas queer.
Rising flocks of cedar waxwings appear
startling and unexpected. My heart’s clear.