Postcard #41: What I Saw at Dawn

One of the benefits of going through a fit of insomnia…

Stay up through the night and meet the dawn, find a cool place to watch the sky wake and let the living things around you show you their secret faces.

I have dozens of poems, neatly handwritten, un-revised, they came out automatically as if ticker-taped out of my mind, all stored at my bedside.  I do not know why, and yet I do, my emotions have been wild this month, I have to be in deep meditation up to four times each day, and out of these meditation sessions come the songs…

It is like my fingertips are singing. I cannot speak. I just let the pen and ink flow — my magic wand of the moment.


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