We are not that different, you and I.
For we both have faith in the invisible-
sleepwalking in the darkness
hoping something will rouse us.
We pace around watching shadows
dance against our eyelids
beckoning us into night’s recesses.
But unlike me, you wander aimlessly
with nothing guiding you except
the air surrounding your slumber.
I, in comparison, have my sights set
on a open door at the top of the staircase;
the light leading me into consciousness.
I feel the hands of the Sun pulling me in,
waking me from my nightly coma
with renewed vision and a bright perspective.
You certainly have your finger on the pulse of the soul. This is an excellent poem.
Starward