Once an object of function and rarity
now a refuge verging on obsession
my happy place to hide from a judging world outside
the silence broken only by the rhythmic beating of my heart
a place to dream of the past and have nightmares of the future
a creative space to listen, read, and write
where I can be me without pretension
a resting place for my weary bones and tired brain
ultimately my vehicle to meet eternity?
How I'd love to feel that way about my bed, my bed is a place of restlessness and discomfort.
😉 Wow! -deep indeed... I like this.