I sleep on water.
A mattress filled with an ocean of tears, a sea of sadness,
Waves of suffering crest and crash during the night.
One foot in death and another in Light.
After tears flow into rivers and streams sleep arrives to relieve pure exhaustion.
But sleep is a lie.
An illusion that life feels good. Sleep is a cloak of protection from pain.
One foot in darkness and another in life.
As the first slight prickles of consciousness intermingle with dream vestiges
a trance state feels as if miracles can occur
the bubble is burst.
The bliss wasn’t real.
The disappointment is so palpable that it makes a ‘thud’ noise in the ears and a vibration in the body of a door shutting.
Tears come to the eyes, The light of day is offensive and cruel to the senses.
“No! No! Come back!” arms outstretched towards nocturnal heaven fading away like cloudwisps or vapor.
So close to the touch yet elusive and barely remembered seconds later.
If lucky, remnants of sleep leave quietly. If not, floodgates of thought and memory open.
During the night,
God works on what I prayed on
during the light of day.
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