My soft clenched fists pummel matted, squashed pillows not from anger but punching up rest from my restless head after a night of tossing and turning to find a calm, restful sleep.
Preparing these stoic pillows
for falling asleep so my head senses the softness of morning with a night full of dreams in the dark.
Our pillows hold our dreams ~
keep them safe until
new dreams wave and drift into
pillowed resilience while
soaking up bizarre dreams and restless nightmares
or like a potter’s wheel
molds a kaleidoscope of good dreams.
“There are as many pillows of illusion as flakes in a snow-storm.
We wake from one dream into another dream.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
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