What happens when we sleep, when we dream? Are our minds unraveling our waking issues? Fantasizing about what could be? It feels so real when these images visit us. Our bodies rest but I think our minds never do. Sometimes I believe I've had no dreams but then my husband will ask me what I was dreaming about because I was kicking, swatting, mumbling, giggling, or screaming. Does that happen to you?
My poem was inspired by Mary Oliver's poem, "Sleeping In The Forest".
Dreamscape
Most nights
I dream silently
Not remembering them
When I wake.
My mind must be working though
Even when my eyes are closed.
I wake up with fingers and hair caught in knots
From twisting and twirling them in anxiety.
At times my heart wakes me up
It's beating so fast,
It scares me.
I'm hot, I'm cold,
I turn from side to side.
One pillow, two pillows
Blanket or not.
Like the sleeping beauty princess
Who feels the pea under a mountain of mattresses,
Or Goldylocks
Who has to try everything
To find what's just right.
Will my mind
Just rest peacefully tonight
Before I lose my hair and my mind?
"Relax" I tell myself.
There's no monster under the bed
Nor in my head.
Or is there?
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