There is a certain nightly hour when an eerie hush cushions the earth.

All becomes dormant, all becomes quiet

Except

The little sounds thrive and grow and pulse and move and shake and quiver.

Close your eyes, turn off all the lights and listen to their stories.

The manic march of the wall clock; tick-tock, tick-tock

The determined deep vibrato of the refrigerator

The soft subtle “swooshing” of the ceiling fan; still on a focused mission to drive away the heat

But listen closer; go deeper within

Cup your hands to your ears

Beyond the heavy footsteps of your boldly beating heart, listen for the other rhythms.

The ones you usually ignore.

The cacophony of caffeine cruising through your veins at dangerously high speeds

The brawling beasts in your belly; escapees from a banned mosh-pit

Your long laboring lungs like violent waves crashing.

The longer you listen, the louder they become.

Harder to ignore

Sometimes sneaking into your waking world.