dreamless sleeping

I’m feeling acutely
the difference between responding to my life
and being the choreographer of it

how having no invitation or opportunity to dream
takes its subtle but steady toll
I’m writing and the words stop
start stop
(sigh)
going fuzzy and lethargic
till not even a good night’s sleep renews me

cue my will
that force who takes me swimming against the current
or at least has me grab a branch in this rushing river
rushing toward the waterfall of the familiar

cue my wisdom
who steady as the moon cycles light and pulls my tides
reminding me this morning
to do the thing I’ve been avoiding

this risk of unpleasantness
and fear of learning
(read: doing things badly)
cloaked in kindness
opalescent
stealing through the night
blocking the moon

I want my breath back.

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Filed under life, poetry

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