The In-Between Hours
The in-between hours is when it is hardest
Body aching for slumber
Mind yearning for rest though sleep is not to be found.
In the void is anxiety, angst, pain
What if? What now? Can I? Should I? How?
Perhaps it is the darkness that fuels the fear
In the long hours between dusk and dawn
When the memories of long past loss, pain and failure
Stoke the fear of more to come
Making the release of sleep impossible.
And when finally the gray morning light
Creeps into the bedroom window,
I rise to find a blanket of snow has covered the yard
And new blooms have opened on the orchids
Lined up against the kitchen window.
