Each night at sleeps silent gate, you lose who you are, what you are, where you are. All these things fall asunder as you lay your head down. But the silence only erupts into dreams and thoughts swirling uncontrollably as though in a hurricane of confusion.
Through this nightmare, I rub my eyes and peer into the darkness hoping to find my unborn self whistling a tune while standing under a street light in the rain. But the song is silent to my ears. Why is it you’re always as close as my breath and I continuously push you away?
And so begins the task of coming home but again to this sacred spot to the left of inside.
An Unexpected Muse 
I enjoy your blog. This made me think of the koan “what did you look like before you were born”. I’m not sure if you meant the zen reference, but that’s the fun of reading….I use mindful breathing to help me get to sleep. I find it particularly calming to focus on the movements of my back as the breath comes in and out. Thanks.
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Thank you! You know I was trying to figure out where that line was coming from, ‘my unborn self.’ All I knew was that it was Buddhist in nature. Also thanks for the breathing tips!
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Beautiful writing. Dark and haunting and wonderful.
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Thank you for your kind words, its’ appreciated!
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You’re welcomed 🙂
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I am reminded of the line in Hamlet “that undiscovered country from who’s bourne no traveller returns”. Wonderful writing. Thank you. Kevin
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Thank you for such a wonderful comment. I’ve been told this verse has traces of Zen in it (the unborn self) but I hadn’t thought of any of that, surely not Hamlet. But you’ve got me thinking. It’s great how words take us in so many directions…
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