Did I come from a world of eternal light?
Can I live in a world of eternal light?

Perhaps.
It would mean there has never been a sunset
And a sunset would mean the end of the light
For a bit
For ever
My time is hard to tell
But a sunset could mean I lived a good day
There was value and sense and creativity

A sunset could also mean 
Things got dark at the end
A slow, or fast, traumatic roll into darkness

I might mean there has never been a sunrise
Because a sunrise would mean there was darkness before
For a bit, likely for awhile
The time is hard to tell, 
But a sunrise could mean I emerge out of a darkness
And into the beauty, colour, and opportunity of a new day

A sunrise could also mean 
The end of dark
A gentle and easing spread into the light of life.

Is it a human failing that we need to make a darkness
To shut out the light 
Close our eyes to the world around us
And sleep.
Are our dreams just our mind trying to convince itself we are still awake,
And still in the light of day?

Is it a human condition
Of really knowing love, and life, and friendship, 
That we practice a faux death 
Of darkness and quiet and solitude
In sleep
So that we can find a next day
That brings light and joy and possibilities?

Do we die a thousand deaths
So we can live a thousand lives
Experience a thousand loves
Know a thousand friends.
And be creative, beautiful, and together?

Is this what my sleep is supposed to be?
Can I finally relax into the night
Not fight the supposed demons 
Of under bed horrors and back closet floor monster 
But let my sleep, 
Let me,
Let go of the day
(Whether good or bad)
And find the calmness of endearing, enduring, enlivening life
At the end of opening lids in the next morning?

— . – —- – —–
(spring 2024)