Darkness confers with the owls as light becomes a memory for a spell. The comfort of a bed awaits in a quiet room known so very well. Fresh sheets carry a scent to ease our mind while softness hugs our being. We surrender and relax as our eyes close, yet there is something else we're seeing. The rejuvenation from a bed has many foes and challenges, it's true. A racing mind, a job to finish, an exciting event you're headed to. The body needs it's rest each night though it's not an easy task for us all. Nighttime can bring trials for anyone. Sleepless nights may be our unwitting downfall. Nightmares haunt us in the darkness as we seek refuge from our daily battles. Breaking free of our fears and thoughts can mean an escape from these shackles. Sleep not only refreshes, it lets our mind create wonderful dreams and stories as we rest. We may even get a visit from someone we've lost or loved in our long-forgotten past. Sleep is natural for everyone. It's more important than it seems. Value your time in comfort and darkness. My wish for tonight and every night is, "Sweet Dreams."
Sometimes, ideas come to me gently and are noted until I have time to write. Other ideas kick in a door and demand to be dealt with - now. This poem is in the latter category. It falls there even though the idea came to me last night while I was trying unsuccessfully to sleep. The irony is just about ridiculous. I refused to get out of bed and write a poem titled “Sleep.” I had to write it so I wouldn’t have a repeat of last night. Sometimes you write because you have to.
That’s lovely, Rod. It often happens that just I am about to drop off, some sentences of a poem (or the entire poem) pop up in my mind and I’m compelled to get up and write them down.
Hi Rod.,Lovely poem. I'm one of those who suspects that, sometimes, a "third eye" opens when we go to sleep and we're suddenly thrust into a state where we feel more lucid and aware than ever. This may just be a time when we catch glimpses of other worlds or dimensions and even communicate with beings who reside there. Some may look familiar, like loved ones, perhaps long gone. We call these "visitations". But are they? Who's visiting who? I invite you to read one of my poems called "Fireflies" on Devin's Dreams, my substack, which addresses this very them.