salvation of sleep

I have so many things that need to be done. Chapters to be read, clothes to be laundered, the language of Rorschach to be learned. And yet, I have decided to not do any of it. At least not at the moment. Instead, I have decided to allow myself the luxury of an afternoon nap, the pure bliss of snuggling underneath my corduroy comforter and listening to the rain pelt the tin gutters outside my window. I have chosen to drift off to sleep with the memory of the darkening smoky gray clouds bringing their introduction of a fresh chill in the air. If I had a fireplace, I would light a fire (despite the unseasonable warmth) and lounge next to it with a good book. If I had a bay window overlooking Nature’s creations, I would sit and write to my heart’s content. With the absence of both, I still might curl up and read the inspiring words of someone’s ancient brilliance or I might search the memories of my mind as inspiration for a few hours of writing. But first, I will allow the beckoning of sleep to seduce me and relish the salvation of its luxury.