I lie still at night and stare into space,

just trying to think, just trying to know,
but a sleepiness arrests my dark face,
and my mind follows suit into the glow:
Of darkness, you know, that little low light
that might gleam in a cat's eye or even
scream through the window with lunar delight,
the shades of meaning before it's given:
To live in the void is to live without
time, in a constant crepuscle; vision
is timeless but flat, and all tinged with doubt,
till you wake up one dawn on a mission:
I'm waiting for word from the Headquarters,
giddily eager to see my orders.
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