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| Photo by Matheus Vinicius on Unsplash |
The nudge arrives unexpectly.
In the quiet inky dark solitary times
Known as the witching hours,
Sometime after the clock tolls midnight.
A battle between dreams and reality begins.
Which side will win this time?
First my body rouses.
Sometimes startled awake,
Others times begrudging and fighting.
When ignoring the nudge triumphs
I gratefully return to slumber.
When dreamland recedes, I lose.
My mind awakens to foul whispers
Old memories rise to the surface.
Emotions stir - mostly of regret.
The witching hour is not often kind,
Rarely bringing beautiful memories.
It offers a buffet of regret and self-doubt.
Great sadness engulfs my soul.
Tears well up, then spill down my cheeks.
An onslaught of darkness overwhelms me.
"If only," becomes my mantra.
If only I hadn't, if only could go back.
If only....If only...If only.
Time moves at a snail's pace while
The relentless whispering continues
On into the gray mist before dawn where
The damning voices finally run dry and
Peaceful silence offers a welcome balm.
I breathe deep, then sigh in relief.
My husband turns and cocoons me.
Wrapping my body gently in his arms,
I fade off as the stress falls away.
Again unconscious and defenseless.
Drifting in the dreamscape flowing
Ceaselessly through my soul.
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