A nice prescription of sleep

Amy Michelle Mosier

A nice prescription of sleep

I took when the day proved awry

And found myself when I blinked

In a dreamscape of its own kind.

 

I could hardly believe it

But I saw a meadow without end;

I stopped my crying to think

Of where the tiller went.

 

I saw in hues that'd never been;

The sky emoted rest.

That place - known only to me -

Brought me there at behest

 

And of time? What did it mean

To the birds above the field?

To the excitable bee

Nourished by a fallen tear?

 

Suddenly - I startled -

And sitting up in my bed -

Felt my wound's sharpness dulled

Almost like it'd never happened.

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Comments +

Comments3

  • whats write for me

    Enchanting prose, a privileged read. Thank you for sharing. Reminds me of the movie What Dreams May Come.

  • Tony36

    Excellent write

  • sorenbarrett

    Wounds anesthetized whether by drug or anything else seldom heal as well. A wonderful write and deep as the rabbit hole the metaphor takes you down



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