You're lost in a maze of the subconscious, clawing up for air through layers of sleep, trying to escape terrors you've repressed, suppressed, redressed.
But sleep hangs on like the last tiny drop of ice melt to the tree branch, bent by the wind of your fear, but still persistent.
And then finally it's over and you're the lone bud climbing for the sunlight of early spring. You wake to memories appalling and chew them over all day trying to wrap arms around the lessons wrapped in the velvet darkness of the night.
Sometimes, after nights like these, the only thing that breaks the spell is the familiar. Verses memorized, prayers holy and hushed, said in unison. This morning, as I woke from my nightmare, it was the Lord's Prayer that pulled me gently back into the sunrise of love, that promise of every day, that no man controls, the orb of the sun pulling herself gently up the eastern sky and the moon putting himself gently to bed in the west.
Our Father, which art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done,
in earth, as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive trespasses against us.
Lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory,
Forever and ever.
Amen.
(Matthew 6:9-13)
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