poetry · sonnet

“Waking Through Sleep Sonnet Eyes”


“Waking Through Sleep Sonnet Eyes”

Sometimes, when I dream on a sleepless night,

I awake in a darkness of shadows.

Creepy whispers emerge from the bedside,

Ghosts performing their nocturnal sideshows.

Sleep paralysis keeps me still in bed,

Unable to mobilize flaccid limbs.

The phantoms circling about my head,

Raise darkest terrors from the depths within.

As shadows part, and I regain lost sense,

My eyes discern my darling daughter.

Terrors soon depart and remove suspense,

She has come here, seeking only water.

What promotes such nocturnal vexation?

An overactive imagination.

Strange Nights Indeed

Many a night I wake inexplicably, and all kinds of weird transitional thoughts occur to me between my sleeping and waking states. I do appreciate the quiet noise of non-conversation, and the eventual and gradual recognition of all the sounds that are familiar to me; my wife breathing, the dog breathing, the old radiators working their magic. Night time in a quiet old house is equally comforting and unsettling. It is hard to determine if the lives lived in that space before we came along were full of joy or anguish. I prefer to think of the former when I contemplate those lives. The only things that seem to haunt the nightly hours are our children, who wake up on their own, and have their own thoughts and needs. Becoming familiar with the nuance of the nightly dance has its merits, but there is a part of me that hates telling my children that there are no monsters in the world, when in fact, I do not truly know if that is entirely true. When my kids do come to the bedside, it is inevitably to harangue my poor wife out of slumber to meet their needs. Poor Mommy hasn’t slept entirely for a night in almost seven years. I’m a pretty deep sleeper, but I do have a danger sense, and sometimes I bolt upright in bed if I perceive a threat. One time after my first child was born, and we had moved into our home, I didn’t realize that my wife was in the bathroom, and not in the bed beside me. Well, upon her return to our room, I shot out of bed and grabbed her and scared the bejesus out of her. I was caught in a middle state where I perceived danger. I tried to explain that she should feel good that I was at the ready to intervene with any intruder, but unfortunately, that logic doesn’t follow when you charge your wife while she is entering her bedroom. We laugh about it now, but it was a true moment back then when we were just getting adjusted to our new digs. Usually, nights are uneventful, but sometimes in the staunch and defiant quiet of rising and falling diaphragms, things are at play that cannot be explained or regarded too long, as it would likely prevent most folks from sleeping well ever again. Hell, I just roll over and go back to sleep. Come what may.

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