That gentle, peaceful, drifting feeling
Of being lulled back and forth
Up and down
On the undulating sea of sleep.
I don’t remember what it’s like
To sink slowly in the sands of slumber
To descend delicately into a dream
To sense time and place and reality drift away
As I emerge, twirling, into a new dimension.
Now I know only the harsh stillness of a dark room
The glaring red numerals from a digital clock
That ominously signal the dwindling of the night
The night which has been so graciously given
To attain that which is nearly unattainable.
Sleep when it finally comes is a pouncing panther
Striking me suddenly by the throat and pulling me down
But leaving me still to waken
Pierced by fatigue
In the pale morning light.
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