While riding on winged dreams

light silently consumes the darkness

my senses stir, and I awake to a quiet void

empty spaces that once were filled

my warm body draped in cold sheets

 

Still hungry for rest

I lurch my weight forward.

my flesh stumbling, mind in a daze

I cross the threshold, my toes navigating across chilled tile

a lone traveler’s footsteps echoing down a hall

 

Shadows and sleep threaten

but my memory tells me how to find Her

I listen for Her steady breath. I smell for Her scent

I feel for Her spacious cocoon, and finally, I find Her

 

In the bed of my creation and birth

I am gathered up, tucked in, and surrounded by Her touch

we are two forms curving towards each other

one big, one small, separate, but nearly one again

 

Reality dissipates as I exhale

with my body soft, breath steady, and heart warm,

I eagerly relinquish consciousness

only to find my dreams have ceased their searching

I’m left with only rest

 

One morning, several months ago, my 3 year old Jack, woke up early and made his way to our bedroom. This occurrence is nothing new to parents with young children. It’s just a part of life. Jack climbed into our bed, made himself comfortable amidst the bedding, and quickly fell back asleep. I however did not fall back asleep,and instead got the inspiration for this poem about waking early and seeking for rest. I tried to think of it from a young child’s perspective and I found it very much connected with my awakening to my Heavenly Mother and seeking for Her so that I can too find rest.