Early in the morning, as the hive mind descends into slumber,
When most fall prey to sleep, a few neurone finally awaken;
The creative come out to paint dreams
And discuss the day's events free from the scorn of the logical.
Together they share a laugh as they rule over the dormant brain.

With a smaller audience
The shy learn to speak
And those present marvel
At the words that escape their lips.

Later in the day,
A smile exchanged,
Recognition of what transpired.

When the remains of their creations are discovered
Little can be done to defend it from biased eyes;
Yet neither shame nor regret is felt in the hearts of the creative,
Only anticipation for their time to come once more.

When tired eyes meet,
A sleepy nod exchanged,
A promise I meet up again
After a few nights of rest.