often i awake

he wakes in the morning
or in the afternoon
never in the evening, unfortunately
when the time for the day to begin comes
it is accepted in silence
like the man walking to his noose
the shower is much too cold today he thinks
this shouldn't be
one should gently ease into waking
and confronting the day
he never remembers his dreams
of course he remembers very little of the real world
just it's crimes
but if he did remember his dreams
he would never want to wake
for he would find suitable substitutes for the truth
he would find

it is close to dusk. it has been for the past couple hours. it looks gorgeous along with the hills and this path they have been following. here and there some bird takes off or lands near by, i sure hope they appreciate the beauty of their home, he thinks. his company that he walks with, they are all faceless and no one, but all are great friends and great company at that. and as they were all talking have good community, a siren rips through the evening sky like a man into a woman's blouse. the talk amongst the group quickly turns to that of the invasion. not knowing but remembering about it, he thinks that its highly likely that that is it. the planes make no noise nor make any warning as they pass within spitting distance of him. others in the group are taken away somehow. he cant tell how, though he saw it. he feels no fear, he feels acceptance. and like that it is back to the beautiful evening that is was moments ago. the group has been reduced to a smaller number, but it is still beautiful outside regardless. maybe even more so at that. the sunset seems more brilliant somehow. after hardly any walking they are coming upon a house. this house is spectacular at the least. but while walking up to it he sees a drop of dew on some leaf. and he sees this drop of dew. truly. seeing all the light refracted within it breaking it into all and every colour. this happens so briefly that he doesn't even bother mentioning it to the rest of the group, they wouldn't understand or believe so why waste the beauty on them. he is different.hefeelsdifferent. his surroundings seem. different. every step he takes he can feel gravity pulling on each individual cell in his body. he feels how the earth longs for him ever so much to return to it. like the woman longs for her captain of a husband to return to shore. the inside of the house is more magnificent than they could have anticipated. but somehow the beauty of the marble counter tops, jade door nobs, cedar doors, the gold faucets, etcetera, etcetera, is lost on him. somehow it is nothing. a small stair set of about three are in front him he leaps down them. it is as majestic as a fighter jet take off and landing. leaving the earth, breaking its spell momentarily. and gracefully returning like a true lover. one of the bathrooms is the entire basement apparently. he goes to the spiral stairs and before embarking down them turns both faucets next to the stairs all the way. he isn't sure which one is which but he turns them both all the way anyway. the tub is all the way down stairs so he'll find out soon enough. before doing so he is sidetracked in something or other, i don't quite remember you see, its unimportant. but when he pulls away and heads towards his bath he finds an entire room of water waiting for his arrival. oh, to feel the bonds between the water molecules and feel it all as separate entities instead of one large substance.... this must all have to do with the invasion he thinks. sure

morning will come.
it always does.
but one must go to sleep now.
not so that one may awaken some morning in silence.
but so they may dream.