I had been sleeping in segments
like an essay you can’t concentrate on
and write in sloppy short paragraphs
before stopping. I was inbetween waking
and dreaming most days, half asleep
in the day, half awake at night.
That one night I must have been asleep
although I felt wide awake and wired.
My vision was engulfed in brightness;
beautiful vision of shock and awe,
hideous in its consuming beauty.
I knew, instinctively, like pulling
your hand from the fire, this was
a Being five dimensions removed
from my pathetic flesh and thought,
constructed from the light beyond sight.
Strange movements amongst the beams,
shades and patterns dancing over me,
a language I now cannot comprehend
but at the time I understood as words.
In my fugue state, a poem was dictated,
verses that contained the answers to
every question, the meaning of time
and the rhythms and lines that could
set a universe into joyous motion.
I wept to hear it. I swore I would be
its unworthy terrestrial messenger.
I woke, for certain this time, lost in
the hours before the world stirred.
Searching for a pen, I already felt the words
pour out of my memory, like sand grains
through an open palm. When I finally
located a chewed biro, my head was empty.
I was left shivering and half awake,
unsure of why I was gripping a pen,
unsure of the time or my location
unsure even of who or what I was.
The dawn chorus had erased the divine