the song that sank a thousand ships, or at least awoke me from my slumber…

Almost asleep, but then it hits, that note followed by that one line, I’m hooked.
A good beat is nice. Some sort of pleasant chord progression is a plus.
But that is secondary.
The words draw me in. Poetry in motion.
My soul takes off and then I can feel it move from my head, to my heart, to my fingers.
It explodes, taking over.
Someone, some brilliant person, has put these words together in such a beautiful way, that I cannot resist,
I must participate in the experience.
Even if it isn’t as great, even if it isn’t as poignant,
my contribution is no longer an option.
Words running through my brain, my eyes fly open,
I grab desperately for something, anything–
a pen and paper, my phone, the post-it or receipt sitting on my nightstand, that sharpie that slipped out of my bag and under the edge of my bed, perhaps my laptop if it found its way back to my bedroom.
The important thing is never the how,
the important thing is just getting all of it out.
The song is over, another begins. More poetry, more notes dancing along my skin as lyrics pour into my ears and overload my senses.
Several thousand letters later, I find some sense of satisfaction.
My words have joined theirs, I’ve made my peace with the muse that startled me from my rest, and I can once again attempt a few hours of sleep before it all begins again.