Night Visitor Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

The truth comes out
in the later of the late hours
when there is no traffic hum
no talk or chirping of birds
and I am just alone, so alone
I can hear my mind wander

it goes back to a very old place
wandering child in a large manor
no furniture and no obstructions
only a little child in the world

Then without being invited
the truth settles down
like a fog
long before the world begins again
once again
before the early chirping of birds
before the slow beginning of day
before the present returns

This uninvited visitor will remain
forever in consciousness
but because it is truth
it settles quietly
among the other thoughts
and needs no space

Since it is truth
and has no form
no demands
it just is.