This pull grips my heart. It tugs. It tugs. It tugs.
Until it bugs me that I can’t rest easy.
Toss, turn, real scorching. Phantoms torch me.
Until finally burning, I pull away from the sheets.
Pacing. Thoughts racing. Retracing.
deep breath. Tred. Dread. Spoon fed.
Cold sweats. The transformation burns me.
Bear down. Dig in. This is spiritual warfare we are in.
Face it. Race it. Embrace it. Wrestle it.
Facing the eyes in the mirror before me,
I see myself. I love what I’m observing.
All the moments and expressions resting within me.
I feel myself separating, release what doesn’t serve me.
I am comforted completely. Rest returns to me.
I fall peacefully back into sleep.