It's an ungodly hour.
And I've been kept awake.

The world beckons.
And it didn't call with melodious
chirps from the birds in the trees.
It wasn't the soft, calming pitter patter
of raindrops upon the window pane.


Thoughts...


Sneaky, almost sinister thoughts.

Like fine-grain sandpaper that gently rubs
against the quiet skin.
Like a fine-toothed comb that jabs
lightly and repeatedly into the scalp.
Like a tiny paper cut that is invisible
yet you know it's there.

Slowly abrading...
Poking...
Stinging...

Eating away at the thin veil
of silence and peace
that barely blankets my being.

•••

I am now awake.
And I have been awake...
Thinking, doubting and second guessing...
At this ungodly hour.

When a loved one’s sickly
All household’s affected thickly
Suffering in unison, well-wishing
For quick recovery, busy as bees pampering
And showering them with love and affection.
The fluctuation in complexion
Is met with mounting concern
And all efforts are expended to discern
The crux of the medical conundrum
At hand even if it means trying to charm
The supernatural forces that be
To intervene to assist with the sore reality.
A need to look inward
Can’t be sidestepped much less ignored.