Womb and Surrender

Sometimes I view sleep;
that covenant between the body and sheet,
between a mind that requires rest,
to cool down, come down
off the mountain into a darkness
with one light small enough
to bay the fears of childhood
but not too bright to penetrate eyelids
or keep away those sweet sweet fantasies
of flying in peanut butter castles
or endless shadows chasing.

Sometimes I view sleep
as giving in to the worst of lazy
habits and sometimes, like a shaman,
as knowing when to pray
and when to rest and when
to breathe. Sometimes
as womb and surrender,
that dark heartbeat of sleep.

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A day is not done, until it's filled with words.

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