The world is wonderful and good
and I never forget that. Just
sometimes I find I've stopped
noticing. Sometimes for a longish
while. I only notice how long
it's been
when I'm conscious again, as if
suddenly awoke from disheartening
and very real dream. Dream logic
obtains, in those situations. Dream
logic explains without saying so:
we know that what's happening
is ordinary; expected. We even
know the rules: we know how
things go. By strange ulterior
mechanism, the dream keeps us
fooled. We need the sleep; it
knows. What's best for us, and so
it does something to suspension
of disbelief. Then on a day
like any other, in the middle
of doing the most ridiculous thing,
we wake up wearing the same clothes
and notice all of it. How wonderful
and good it is, we note! How absurd
to have forgotten? How droll, that
dolorous and stuporific existence
suddenly was.
Must remember to notice,
next time we slip
across
1 comment:
What an interesting poem to read as I sip my morning coffee and think longingly of going back to bed and sinking into sleep but realize it is almost time to go out and face the day.
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