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The Luxury of Sleeping in




deep in the furrow

of my bed

my child-self

longed to stay in its warm

haven

but


the voice calling up

from the bottom of the

stairs

would not be dissuaded

no detouring

the rigours of academia

this morning

that imposing early-to-rise

school schedule…

before I left that

contented place

though

I remember planning

to jump back into bed

the minute I returned from

school

of course, time does assuage

such desires

and by that afternoon

bed was the last place

I wished to be…

flash forward

some thirty-seven odd years

my son, Joseph, has just climbed on to

the school bus

at an oh-so-early hour

we are on summer schedule

but spring has not yet caught up

and mornings are dark and cold

I face an unusual possibility now

this many years later

I, on this particular

morning,

have no pressing schedule

no time line

in the immediate

conforms me

I lay down in that space

I had so recently left

with 22-month old Paul

in my arms

early morning light shines through

the slats in the blinds

I relax and surrender

joyously

into the supine

complete rest

so sought by skin, muscles and

bones

and my mind drifting into that

estate

of the tranquil

the early morning sleep…

I rise close to nine

Paul has been up

for a while

and I remember that time

long ago

it had been worth

the wait



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