i drove home last night
while humming to the sound of the wind.

some existential elation held me high.

and i stayed inside it
while it lifted me higher,

and swept me along
in invisible indulgence.

and last night,
i slept!

and today i write about that slumber
as if it was an event.

it was.

after countless restless
sleepless nights filled
with reading
with thinking
with writing
with breaking life down
into miniature fragments,

exhaustion drew me
into her arms,

pulled my eyes shut
with pillowed fingers,

and said, sleep.
sleep... and then awaken.

and i slept
and awakened
and understood:

only the awakened
are free.