Did you dream? Sleep the sleep of faultless souls? Or twist the sheets as in that Gilbert & Sullivan treatment? Are night time wrestlings an indication of decadent day- time activity? Or is it all simply a matter of happenstance? Possibly something I ate? Thought? Wished for? I think to myself I should not have gotten into that unmade bed, should have made it up; the bed and my mind, should have straighten out the crumpled mass of discarded dreams from yesterday and started fresh, but instead I climbed in with it all tumbled and tossed, lumpy and coarse, no smooth sailing in this tangled sea. What time I might have saved by leveling the playing field and plumping the pillows. All is not lost, there is always tonight. Sweet dreams straight ahead.
Throw the ball even if you can’t pitch it
NEVER LET GO
When it grows dark on one side of transparency
The other becomes reflective.
When addiction doesn’t hold a flame for me
I see the true face of its results.
Because I know now the destructive possibilities
I must print the picture and post it on the wall.
For the day may come when addiction appears
As a light for me and the mirror will be gone.
I need to keep clear the truth even when my eyes lie to me
And my sensibilities catch on fire.
The glass can be the boundary or the tumbler,
The glare of day can be harsh or bright.
Light is forever shifting
I cannot count on shadows for predictions.
I must know it when I see it, chant it to remember
And hold hands and never let go.
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault