Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2010
I'm stuck between two places at once.
The mist curls so indiscernably
into the air I breathe.
Which one is real?
I've been here before--
this in-between place...
I am a frequent visitor.
I have come every morning since birth,
and every night as well.
It's too big to be a doorway,
too small to be a field...
This in-between space--
this in-between grove... yes! Grove!
It welcomes me into waking,
and guides me into dream.
Sliding here and there,
she seems longer than a second
but shorter than a moment;
She's ageless-- this mother of consciousness...
this lover of dreams.
She's the heartbeat between the opposites...
the breath before the change--
wisps of in-between.
I couldn't sleep one night, and was trying to get myself to that point between sleep and consciousness so that I could slip into one or the other. I intended to slip into sleep, but the whole experience made me sit up straight in bed instead and rummage for a notebook to write down this poem. lol! needless to say, it took me quite a while to finally get to sleep.
Written by
Chenoa
494
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems