Pensive Hour Poem by Bianca Free

It came,
a hum sweet and low
in the pensive hour:
that moment when
the sun says awake,
that moment when
i stand in the shower
and think,
when i absently dress
with eyes unblinking
focused on a wall
mind unconceiving.
It brushed my ear
like a wind
against the window
like a purring cat
against my leg,
a hum sweet and low,
until i was conscious
of where i was.
i turned to see
who hummed so sweetly
not a shadow appeared.
who woke me from daysleep?
i went back to that state,
the hum sweet and low
to contemplate.
I suppose it were God
penetrating my head,
letting himself in
since I never properly did.