4AM

The heater jolts to life because the temperature
dropped below seventy-two.

It doesn’t disturb the dog but startles me.
Every. Damn. Time.

The intermittent cars whiz by the dark turn
outside of my apartment building.

I can hear Rex breathing through his cold black nose.
I can hear Brad stumble to the bathroom.
I can hear the black coffee fill my
“Peace. Love. Books” mug.
Mudslide k-cup with soy and Splenda.

The busy Macbook on my lap gives me warmth,
as does the blanket plugged into the outlet next to me.

I get lost in the moment:
I edit a picture, 12 minutes.
I type up a blog post, 23 minutes.
I get lost in a memory…

Reading Facebook posts about a woman
who is now with the stars.

In a grey Jeep Cherokee
with a familiar stranger home from war.
“You look great,” he says quietly.

Full-time job offer.
Graduation plans.
E-mail to Grandma.

Before I know it, it’s 4AM.
My body is tired,
but my mind is wired.
This is peace.

---

I was recently inspired by a friend to write poetry again. Thanks, Em. This piece came to me because of her tweet about an all-nighter that she just pulled. Silly girl. ;) 

In my warm bed last night, reading the first chapter of The Happiness Project...at 1:12AM, I thought about what makes me happy about 4.I love 4AM.

I get that this is not a typical blog post, but 4AM is a personal journey for me, which I can only experience when my mind wins out over my body. It's a beautiful moment of  peace and quiet and really is a journey of sorts. 

Anyways, hope you enjoy.