He sleeps across the doorstep, brown and splayed. Sentinel at the gate or a guardian of the pathways I cannot tell. Sleep in both hard and easy. I stay awake to savor the day but find sleep with ease when I loosen to it. For a long time I am awake, but not as stiffly as in the other nights that still clutch the heart. Today I fight sleep without expectations or promises and am aware that I am so ruffled and so at peace. The ruffling a premonition of an emerging cosmic dance the peace the security of steady strong ground.
The heart flutters but no longer clouds the mind. I fight off my tiredness, chase away the clouds of vapor and listen to the thumps. More thumps as pain and joy converge. A new tiredness forms, of miles traveled and worthwhile journeys broken for a wink. A tiredness made of the present, no longer a hangover from the past. An awakening.
I awaken sharply and in an instant am alert. It’s an unusual morning, like the fogs that clarify into pert beads of morning dew. I shuffle across to the kitchen.
Shall I perhaps be loud – I am. Light steps in heavy shoes eager to engineer and then share another moment or some. An eternity is forming but minds dead in a frugal wasteland have little patience.
Sharpness returns tiptoeing on the blade of a sword. Sleep now dear friend, dear love. We make this journey not for a moment, nor in the moments. For they are but mere punctuations: dots, ellipses, pauses of grammar in a work that has just begun.
I brew and drink tea, and prepare my leaving. And realize that I cannot leave PROSAICALLY.
kalpaean 