My heart wept for joy

when I heard the music

seeping through the walls 

of our little house.

She had been asleep for so long, 

months and months

lost in contemplation,

traveling to a mind-place

where I could not follow.

Was it possible

she was returning to us?

Neuroplasticity

some people call it--

neurodiverse,

spectrum--

this and that,

lots of colors

come through the spectrum

of light, I suppose,

but sometimes

the night is so long

there is no tunnel in sight,

no emerging,

no awakening.

Until one fine quiet afternoon,

as I lay napping after a morning's chores,

I heard the music seeping

and my weeping

was transformed

in this sweet moment

of melody,

this unexpected joy.