“Suddenly, as rare things will, it vanished.”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning says.
Each night I awaken from the mist of meaning, and profound words formulate,
and I repeat them,
but fail to write;
and so,
When I awaken each morn,
I resume daily consciousness essentially where I left off before falling asleep,
only to realize as rain pours onto my body in the shower,
that I hit upon something momentous
but now forget the words,
retaining only,
that feeling.
