Connection

Poetry is a state which catches me off guard,
in some corner of time,
between the shadows of a slow Sunday
and the nameless light of an empty street.

It doesn't come from a book or from a dream;
it rather comes with the subtle echo of days
and the quiet touch of hours—
a way the universe might reveal somehow
in its nakedness, within its fissures.

a whisper of itself: of the invisible.

I don't know how I can express what I feel,
or how to name it.