3 A.M.

I hear heartbeats pounding on the bed,against the floor,through a thousand pillows separatingthe cold from body warmth.I hear you dreaming,completing yet another concrete bricksomewhere in that analytical brain full of puzzles.I hear the wind shifting,swirling erratically through leaves, chimes, andthe water hitting the shore against the land.I hear my brain shifting through consciousnesstrying to make sense of thingsthat at 3 AM I cannot fix.I hear my cells duplicating, expanding,moving though the ocean of water inside.I hear love entering from afar,snoring in another dimension,wishing I was there to witness the entranceto life without judgment before and after birth.I hear the whispering of the walls,ancestors from here and there,the universe, and my guideswhile I can’t make sense of the voicesI sit quietly anticipating an answerto all those things that in waking hoursdo not ask questions.But, through the witching hoursthe noises of the galaxies all join forcesin our room…while all I can do is reach out to youto find support, grounding, and love.