Inspiration Taps Softly
Sometimes late at night as we succumb to sleep
We greet creative thoughts beyond those of counting sheep
It’s said Thomas Edison held coins in his hands
That clanged into a bucket noisily as planned
Stirring, he was intrigued by notions for invention
That seemed to emerge from a different dimension
It worked for him and if you enter an alpha state
You, too, may find this source of inspiration great
For it is this exercise of the mind unwinding
That serves to recount the day, subtle reminding
Of the joy you found when beholding a flower
And the thrill of discovering nature’s power
Or the touch of a hand from one who reaches out
When a vulnerable heart is mired in doubt
And the scent of loved ones’ perfume on a pillow
That permits our longing memories to billow
The sounds and tastes of each long day also emerge
As slumber takes charge and begins its nightly purge
So keep a pen and pad at bedside as you retire
Knowing that inspiration is likely to spire
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