It’s late and I can’t sleep.
The softness of my bed is no help
instead it mocks my tired body and mind.
Check marks on invisible lists,
thoughts of new beginnings
keep me awake.
Lavender scented lotion,
smoothed gently into warm skin
promises relaxation –
yet here I sit.
What will tomorrow hold?
Is laughter the best medicine
for aching muscles?
Should I have papaya or banana for breakfast?
Does milk thistle really work? Do others have trouble pronouncing thistle as well?
Is anyone thinking or dreaming of me as I write this?
Does it really matter?
When the flowers sleep do they dream of honeybees and dew?
Doesn’t it take two to Tango?
Will the soft secrets I whispered into the night find their way? Or will the leaves on the trees catch them mid-flight?
When I laugh does that mean I exist?
Is life really a bowl of cherries? And if so are they Ranier?
If I asked you what you were thinking would you tell me?
Why does a unicorn finger puppet make me smile?
Is it strange that I would rather dance with the devil than talk with an angel?
Do llamas really wear pajamas?
Should I stop thinking?
I think so …
If I write this all down will time finally stand still in my head?
Do you know?