Nocturnal Certitude

We all know it,
Whether first dreams
Or last gasps before sunrise.
We know the nocturnal nightlife.

How subtle its beginnings,
Preying on our relaxed drift,
That short time of remembering today,
Imagining tomorrow.

How little control we have

Over these shadowed experiences,
These realms of repression
Kept at bay during the day,
Free to roam nights in our sleep,

Holding sway in the wings of a dream’s lucid stage.

We awaken to disturbances,
Anonymous origins haunting our unconsciousness,
Even as books,
Scholars,
Therapists,
Tell us such is not in our control.

Relax,
Shake it off ,
It's purpose served,
Revealing something
Of one's closeted fears,
Not known yesterday,
Yet companions for today.

Spring into your start.
Imagined Coffee,
Croissant,
Smiles to the doorman,
Even given to the cantankerous next-door neighbor,
Makes no difference.
You're free.

For...

Nocturnal-Noise
Having done its job,
Convinces you you're awake,
Wiser for the challenging night,
Less naïve,
More attentive,
Less than who you never were,
But were told you must be.

Yet…

You are here
Serving the moment,
honest of identity.

Run into the yard,
Imagine ripping off your clothes,
Dream of effrontery all around,
Even though you are but within the “I am” captivity
You created.

Both joy and remorse prevail,

For one's life sentence
Grants no reprieve,
Only the cacophonous and often dissonant night noise,
That unexpected redemption,
Hope,
Reality,
Chaotic dreams

Becoming but yesterday’s echo.

Another lesson has been presented

Now distancing itself,

Making room for another night’s growth.