The snap of twig against twig
lent music to the hushed night
as the birds rested their voices
for tomorrow.
They whispered for me to rise and sing,
to join their night time orchestra
on the star spangled stage.
To dance my bow across the strings of the violin,
Like shooting stars across the black abyss.
To beat the melody of gravity against the drum of the earth.
To twirl in the rays of the moon.
But my blanket held me captive in its tangles
and my feathered pillow drowned their call.
And sleep locked the door.
-Updated 5/3/18