Life Through Poetry

Night Dreaming

My best and worst thinking happens late at night
When the moon is full and bright
When the lamps have finished giving their light
And the other side of the bed is breathing softly and steadily

Here I am writing poetry at 11:14
And my mind is like a big cinema screen
Where I'm repeatedly watching each scene
Over and over and over again until my brain grows fuzzy

Maybe it's a lack of oxygen

It's hard to breathe this late
When the clock is ticking and nearing the next date
The head maid of my mind is simply irate
Telling me it's time now to dream

But how do I tell her my best dreams happen when I'm awake

When I imagine I could be anything in the world
I could be a princess or a pirate or simply a girl
And once I get going, once all these thoughts are swirled
It's hard to stop and close my eyes and rest

It's hard to imagine my dreams hold anything better, when this day dreaming in the night seems to be the best

But now I'm thinking too much, too hard, which is always the downfall
I spend so long avoiding this sleep, trying to stall
That when I finally am ready and hear it call
The words in my head are speaking far too loud and obnoxiously

So I try to think of nothing, of a blank page, of a quiet evening, of a clear day, of a break in the storm where I can hide away, of tomorrow and forever and today 

And then look, here I am again,
Day dreaming at night where our poem began