Sleepless but not awake
My mind thrashes upon the restless waters of my weary thoughts
Lost inside it, we crest and fall amidst the same waves that buoyed us about just a moment ago
The undertow is most certainly that same old place to which I do not want to return, I resist
The sand that offers sleep is too rough with the grit of crushed stones, broken shells and shattered dreams
It does not comfort me this noise, this motion, this angst, this illusion of reality that is not even a little real, today.
It is said the shells that wash to shore are thousands of years old like
The old emotions and fears that keep me awake to write these sounds that no one hears.
Tonight I crave the ocean in the way it makes me feel so small that I have just to lie back
And listen to the sound of the waves that rock me to a place of peace, comforted by its power
The simplicity of knowing that each wave that moves out and in is no more real than this moment,
Which like the last moment, which is now,
Gone.
Becky Hieter 5/6/16
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