When lifting up the mosquito net
And climbing into bed,
I bring with me a notebook that
Will sleep beside my head.
It lies upon my pillow while
My thoughts explore the stores of night
To search through each poetic vial
And find what words to write.
Yet if I do, it seems more true
That you’ve inspired the dreams which guide my sight.
For a while now, I've been doing what I write about in this poem. I have a notebook where I work on poems, usually at night, and I often continue thinking about them as I get into bed. So, I now bring the notebook along, and I've found that as I start to move through that threshold between waking and sleeping, I will sometimes make a connection or find a good word or phrase that had been eluding me. When this happens, I often feel as if that inspiration is coming from somewhere beyond myself...
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