The Long Night Hours
Walking down the hall.
It's the middle of the night.
Wee hours.
Everything still, except—my mind.
Memories.
Floating through my consciousness.
They seem to trouble the spirit.
Unresolved and not understood?
Things we ponder in those long night hours.
When we haven't gotten back to sleep.
When we have time to get stuck in the mind's revolving wheel.
It's so quiet—yet not so.
These things bother me.
Troublesome little demons from the past.
Or worries to come?
You just never know.
But it seems I am most vulnerable in these long night hours.
When the world outside seems so still.
And the big action's internal.
Relentless, prodding, upsetting.
I walk the hallway.
I wonder about my sanity.
I feel the loss of so many times past.
So many loved ones gone, not to return.
It hurts to feel this.
It can make you fear for your life.
So I walk the hallway and tell myself—
“You're vulnerable now. Don't take it seriously. Tomorrow you'll be okay.”
Yes, tomorrow in the light of day it will no longer be those long night hours.
You will be busy with your chores and events.
You will forget the night.
You will live in the moment.
Since action is the enemy of thought.
You will fight off the urge to go down the memory trap.
But it will come again.
The night.
The sleep.
The waking to those long night hours.
