That there is no up
Like when you wake in the middle
Of the night…and all you can think of...
Are things that you don’t want to think of.
When you wonder why words like
Warm, fuzzy, and nice seem lost
In the depths of your mind.
What I do when this happens
(as it seems to do more often of late) Is…
I think of Marigolds and Petunias,
Hollyhocks and violets. Warm cozy places,
Porch swings and kitty cats
Barns, hugs, puppies and cinnamon
Bubbling brooks, rusty bridges
Wind riffled bluegrass, atop
Dragonflies. Honeybees, misty mornings.
And spider webs draped in dew.
And when this happens, that's what I do...
I wrap myself in these warm fuzzy things
And fall back to sleep
…On gossamer wings…