Daily Bread

When my alarm pierces the air,

puncturing dream clouds and pulling me to the Land of the Conscious,

all I need is ten more minutes

to recall what I had seen, heard, felt,

recapture that delicate sensation on the edge of my memory,

and, peering too far into the Well of Revery,

fall right back in...

When I find myself leaning on the “do not lean on door” sticker,

or swaying and stumbling with one arm clutching the cold metal pole,

or pressed up against strangers with no room

to eat my breakfast or read my assignment for class,

all I need is a niche, a space between two elbows

A perpendicular paradise just wide enough for my shoulders,

give or take an inch.

When I return home, dumping the sack of rocks I call my bookbag

into my closet or the nearest convenient space--

I will need to unpack its contents soon enough,

without the added difficulty of retrieving it--

All I need is my own room, my own space,

Good Lord, a well lit space with a wide desk and chair just the right height,

Quiet aside from my study soundtrack.

And when I curl up in bed,

Inconsolable, irresolute,

Aching with a burden that can be felt but not expressed,

All I need is a Savior, a Comforter, a Listener and Healer

To steal me away and rejoice over me with singing,

Filling me with the peace that no one else could give.