Eminently most nights
you enter my dreams
falling languidly
within each
moving ethereal scene

The first light of morning
feels cold and unwelcoming
an imposing enemy
waiting for me to rouse
staring blankly
carrying me away
from my most precious clouds

Sleep and the peaceful state
of 'just being'
has become my most
sought after friend indeed
upon awakening
I recall with wonder
who is luckier?
you or me?