Glad of the Light

You wake and are glad of the light,
glad to break from the darkness of dreams
and demons; your breath ragged and
not at all restful. A night’s sleep, lost in a moment,
the perfectly wrong moment of waking,
eyes darting, finally understanding where and when
you are.

It will color your day. Such dreams do
but you are armed. Able to function as if
none of it had happened. No one will know
but you, just how off you are
for life has made you the consumate actor,
suave, smooth, the cracks carefully hidden.
Once a survival skill, not it is less,
simply a useful tool,

allowing you to live the truth
when the lies sneak in.

About this poem.

I have very vivid dreams. When they are good, that is wonderful. When they are dark, as the one this morning that inspired this poem was, it is less than wonderful. Once again, I sing praises and blessings on my long ago therapist for giving me the tools to move on when things are hard.

Poetry of course, is one of my weapons against the dark. Relegating the darkness to words, always couched in the reminder that life is good, that I am loved, and light is always right there with me. Even, that I can create my own. So can you.

Be well. Travel wisely,

Tom