By J Ann Crowder

I could smell rain saturating midnight air infused by gardens of wet mint, rosemerry, and sage
As I sat on my concrete porch, dreaming
It's melodious tinkering on my rooftop, a dance of liquid sunshine free falling, sung in chorus with my soul
As my heart quickened, I could sense the nighthawk near
I envisioned him looming in the pinewoods above
His beady eyes of black beckoning my heart
His talons festering
His beak quaking and scolding
With a persistent squawk, he keeps me from sleep
He calls my inner child’s name
For a moment, all is still as tapestries freeze upon my mind’s creative wonder
Rain infuses my every sense of being
The nighthawk nods with approval
silently singing chord’s of inspiration resume, like a harp string's binding and eternal unison
Thus, time steals moments only to uncover picture frame upon picture frame, never forgotten
By and by, rain forges spring's heavy duvet of glory like a writer's pen sketches a frame's timeless beauty within

Written May 29th, 2017. The nighthawk strikes usually at night. He is the silent nudge we feel, urging us to take flight and accomplish the extraordinary things we long to do in this life. He often leaves us with a prolonging restless and sleepless feeling inside.

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Nelson D Reyes
almost 4 years

My night angel in armor, he sits at the foot of my bed but often on my headboard, knows exactly when I should turn the lights off and entertains Satan away from my bed. Like. Thank you Jennifer.
Lovely picture.

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Nelson D Reyes

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