Midnight wonder

And I watch down my spine and find too many inhabitants
and I scream "Is this love?" and I watch as the answer is fleshed out
and my blood runs riot in this sad, lonely hour
just before midnight.

And my ears are blowing bubbles and I watch like a madman:
they're thoughts, floating around, merging, popping, destroying each other and
in the morning that will all be gone.
So hold on, hold fast, there is magic around here
and it doesn't even need you to be listening
now.

It is night, we draw power from the earth instead of from the Sun, and the Moon she sings us lullabies and our lives run on forever into that darkness.
And it all starts in the middle and branches our from there and there is
no
stopping
the ones that dare to listen.

There are trains from yesterday arriving at this station and their passengers are rosebuds.
Their arrival crackles and there is a moment of unison, a smell of ancient fires, of distant dawns and the memory of awakening -
and then it's all just a midnight express
out of town, and in the morning
who can tell?

And then it begins and that moment recedes and another begins and there are things that must happen and others that must be persuaded to, and this cycle is our curse and our life and our all-singing all-dancing voyage through this: