Purchase of Sleep

I overslept this morning. Oh, did I ever.

You'd think ... for someone who has never really been a morning person ... oversleeping would be a real blessing. After all, today, like most days, I have no set schedule to meet ... except that which I impose on myself.

But, not being a morning person, getting a late start actually feels like I'm digging my way out of a deeper hole than usual.

Don't worry ... I'll get over it. I always do ... at least I always have. It's just that I don't start my day by popping a wheelie ... it's more like slow and easy ... slow and easy ... for the rest of the day.

And where does that take us?

To the other side of the coin: Not being able to sleep during the night. That brings to mind ... guess what? Another poem.

Sometimes I wake up ... wide awake ... in the middle of the night. I'm not sure what triggered it ... a noise perhaps ... a barking dog ... or maybe just an interval of absolute quiet. In my neighborhood, sudden quiet can be startling, too.

It's almost like someone has flicked a switch.

The cure? Well, I don't pop a pill ... I've found something cheaper and more effective.

I explain in the poem.

It has also occurred to me that, since I often have the itch to write, perhaps crawling out of bed for a few minutes to scrawl a few nagging thoughts on a scrap of paper is simply the equivalent of scratching where it itches.

And what a great feeling it is to go drifting off again.

The poem:

PURCHASE OF SLEEP

I cannot sleep

when thoughts assail me,

forcing me to rise

wearily from my bed

to find pad and pencil.

Hurriedly I scratch

on the patient page,

uniting it with these

its straying children.

Only then may I reclaim

the cradling pillow

and my rest.

© 1996

(originally published in Mind Matters Review)

***

Today's word: purchase

Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:

I think the words do come together like children ... sometimes they elbow each other ... sometimes they argue ... disagree, at least ... they show up late sometimes ... but they're good kids. I love 'em all. Wouldn't trade 'em for anything ... and please don't ask me which is my favorite. And, in view of the bottom line ... sleep, blessed sleep ... I do tend to believe that the wakeup call is to do a bit of writing ... Thank you for that suggestion, Magran.

There is something about those quiet-hour moments in the night ... I totally agree, Featheredpines ... and I'm glad you enjoy reading the conversations here ... regardless of the hour. I keep promising myself that I will someday catch up on my portion of the friendly talk that goes on here ... and then try to remain current. I also promise myself that I will make a better effort to post some more of my paintings (thanks for your interest) ... particularly the little sketches I sometimes make on my daily walks ... but then I keep running out of time. I'll keep trying, though ... I'll keep trying ...