3 a.m.

3 a.m.,

my soul’s on fire,

like the warrior’s dance of

lightning battling thunder

across my window pane -

ablaze with beauty,

booming with power,

on the fringes of life and destruction -

where the fear comes in...

you’ve revealed the poet in me.

3 a.m.,

I lie awake, dreaming

a demon into an angel -

it transforms when

fought face to face,

wrestled through the night

into the light

of day -

where growth and faith

are the saving grace

where the fear comes in...

you’ve revealed the poet in me.

3 a.m.,

we speak a language

in a tongue new to the world -

born within the voice formed from our

eyelashes, heels and soles,

without rhyme or words,

the stanzas unspoken -

yet we say so much

in smiles, in smirks, in the space

where the fear comes in...

you’ve revealed the poet in me.

3 a.m.,

Reading -

lost in a book

with pages that

only flip the direction

forward,

not back but stay

on this page,

go with the flow

between the lines -

where the fear comes in;

you’ve revealed the poet in me.

3 a.m.,

Saved

in a trembling kiss,

in a crashing wave,

all of life shows up and

fades away 

at once for

trust to enter

where the fear comes in...

you’ve revealed the poet in me.