I’m grateful for the moment between sleeping and waking.

Sleeping child

Picture credit: AttributionNoncommercial Some rights reserved by chicks57

I love the wrenching space between sleeping and waking,
Before the sunlight catches the edge of reasoning
And floods the intellect to life.
That moment when the soul is just emerging,
Battered or buoyed, from its nighttime churning
And pulls itself out of its strife.
We are at our most honest in that moment of stirring,
Before the heavy piano-white ceramic doors of logic click, shutting
Out the language of feeling and the heart.
Raw from the nightly battles with our demons burning
But safe in the flutter of sunlight, knowing
The dreamworld ends, control can start.

We are most honest then, in our desires, wishes, wants;
Most naked, helpless, unadorned, open.
Before the light enters our eyes
Before the to-do-lists run up, the “to-buy”s
Before the rules and practicality, the mind clear
Before the self-judgement, doubts and fear.
Before movement reminds us of form
Before the body unwinds from the warm.
When the critic becomes the child
The soul speaks in poetry
Without conditioning or guile.

Advertisements

Send me sunshine, light and love! :) Constructive criticism is also welcome.

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s