Dreams continue to invade my normally sound sleep. Last night, the night before, and the night before that, too. When it happens it’s always the same. I wake in the wee hours of the morning trying to process the remaining images flooding my mind. Laying in the dark; ice cubes tumbling into the freezer tray, branches creaking in the wind, the heater fan kicking on and off.
My room is warm despite having no curtains on the window. From my bed I can see city lights along the base of the hills. Fingers of light stretch high up the mountain.
And then, the inevitable; flicking on the small bed side lamp because no amount of adjusting pillows, changing position, or attempted meditation mind-space will give me sleep.
I’ve learned to not fight it so hard.
So I drink hot tea sweetened with honey and read, or write.
Soon the sun’s rays will lighten the hills to the west…