Awake

I was caught in a firmament of ideas
but I was already in bed
trying to sleep.
The poem was happening
The work was working
and I, 
an aurora borealis of thoughts and sensations
was thinking how to record all this without 
getting up, making light, locating pen, and lassoing words,
hoping the good snugglers would stay with me all night and deep into 
waking.