rail icon: parallel lines crossing right to left (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Something woke me,
if, indeed, I slept.
It’s late,
the darkness deep.
I listen for a sound
that might creep
across the floor.
A footfall
or a soft and careful creak
on the stair
or through the crack of the door.
The stillness around me,
stifling,
no movement, no stir of air,
then warm comfort
as a shadow passes near,
gone, long before
it becomes clear.
A blur, where there is no bed
where I lie,
as a parallel world merges
with another,
upon and beside,
in and around mine.
Vision of this world,
mostly memory,
catches something beyond:
a world that co-exists,
overlaps,
brief and real and profound.
The shadow,
whispering I’ve only glimpsed,
though through clouded lens,
a sacred other gift.
Soft and tender:
it is love.
Soundlessness returns.
Again in my bed,
I sleep,
but I wait for its return,
and I never forget.
©Janet Mitchell, April 2012
