insomnia (day 17)

drifting into night's unclaimed hours, a boat rocking backwards with landing rope trailing from its front end...in the visible world, snow falls, floors creak, a novel waits with reluctant bookmark (reading resonates more loudly than living)...the required schedule cancels out the essential - becomes the essential...cannot synchronize with the rhythms of my house...cannot align with the houses in my chart...cannot but sympathize with the syncopated stuttering rhythms of this weary body-house...a sleepful night is always one step forward and then two back...a dreamless night is ground gained but wisdom lost...a night navigating the dreamtime leaves soul wiser, more wonder/full but so less at peace with waking options...dreamjourneys of fearless travel, of beloved community, of reckless and courageous schemes, of souldeep companionship perfected in timing, protected from intrusion of time...bluegold sheltering skies, turquoise shadows, gentle sea air though ocean's still invisible...how can I be awake again...how am I here in the desert again...the desert is the first place...the desert is the only waking place...the desert is the ground of the dreamtime, the bedrock, the safe high lookout, the vantage point...but still, meantime, the boat rocks in innersea, closer to the shore of arriving than to its departure...closer to sun's return than to its leaving, but consciousness still hasn't left yet...