If you’re lucky enough to be listening,

a word may come in the night while you

wrestle with tangled sheets and

the window unit AC throbs. 

When you’re wide awake 

past your bedtime, 

you might remember 

a line you used to know 

by heart.  

Whether it
rises or descends, 

I cannot say, only you will know 

its arrival by a quiet hum

of recognition that strikes 

like heat lightening,

quiet and bright.  

Then you must go

to sleep and in the morning 

the word will still be there

running straight through 

the heart of you, 

like the needle

of a compass.  

You
will know, again, the way. 

All that remains is to walk in it.