I was awakened in the middle of the night by an unfamiliar sound, one that grew as the wind picked up outside. Not making much of it, I shifted in bed and closed my eyes.

Again, I was awakened. This time not by sound but by words. I reached out for my notebook that was lying on the floor and began writing.

tend to your garden
all those things you said you would
even now they call

I settled back into bed. The sound outside persisted, but I turned away my ear. The words inside insisted, yet I listened.

go outside and see
hoping that the wind go down
will not make it stop

I got up and stumbled through the hall. The sound was coming from some metal decor my mom had put up. I took both down and made my way back to bed.

ahora si ya
puedo irme a dormir
bueno, lo dudo

What my writing looks like in the middle of the night and inscribed in the dark.