Chaos-Free Room

Tonight…

Heavy eyelids succumb to fluttering first,
Becoming rain showers of thought,
Meandering tributaries,
And finally,
A river to forge,
Footholds' beckoning precarious words
Wanting only to afford a pathway
To mind's quieter listening banks.
.
Still…

Night remains a respite for some,
A merciless river of time for others,
Its clock meandering downstream,
Allowing daylight minutes to jettison
While night hours' succumb,
Submerging beneath one's pillow.

Here…

Where all,
Save one's sleep,
Converge like historic hunger
Upon flooding's compost of living,
Awaiting night's soul-captive war.

Enemies…

Bear threat against ether's healing attar,
As one’s eternal jasmine wills to ride atop the rapids of resistance.

Defenses…

Attempt the beguiling of persistent mongers,
Wanting rest of tenuous clinging above fathoms deep
Where storm soaked burial clothes
Clamor to surface.

On occasion…

Morning's all-night persuasive self-defense
Makes passage to the other side,
Disarms stubborn locks,
Opens lead-heavy eyes,
Discovers its home in the mind's chaos-free room,
Remains destined to live through more of tomorrow’s yesterday-lessons,

You know…

Those begging to be learned in one’s chaotic mind room.