The Next Move

Writing in my sleep  
makes it easy  
for wishes to come true  
when dreams muster  
thought's legions running riot  
beyond the skies  
 
I can straddle the moon  
stars are my sighs  
with each breath  
I paint glittering plumes  
an astral tourist  
ever eager for the twitch  
and tremble of a sleeping hand  
 
It is the moment  
to bend the light  
to reach out  
as the cosmos awaits  
I am coming  
and I own time  
this is my turn  
to be a god  
eating ice cream
from the freezer at 4 am