I wake

There is no weariness in me

No remnants of terror from a nightmare

I simply wake

convinced I’ve slept well into the morn

my eyes open to darkness

the distant digital clock blinks at me that it’s a little after four

I rise and go closer, my eyes play tricks without my glasses

almost midnight when I closed my eyes, I should be weary

no pressure on my bladder, no urge to release

I force myself to go, perhaps that’s why I woke

common enough these days

returning to bed I can sense sleep on the edges

it taunts me, entices me and I long for it

stretching towards it I grasp and wrestle

sleep would be ideal, I don’t have to work tomorrow

dream tinged bubbles of reality flash before my eyes

visions of the day that was and the work week to be

fragments of  books merge with real life worries

I spend minutes that pass like hours contemplating thoughts

frustrated I toss and turn

laying on my back I breathe, slowly in and out

slowly in and out – count 1, 2, 3 exhale and think “out”

focus only on the breathing, stay focused, but

the bubbles return again, demanding to be observed, contemplated

still no weariness and sleeps seems to have slipped past the horizon

I wake and enjoy the silence – better than the struggle to sleep