I escape into a land of slumber, where I softly achieve my goal, to forget and feel nothing, I am enveloped by reaching fingertips of diamonds and solid gold. They caress me with a richness I’ve never known, toy with me, play with me, these dancing hands I feel not, though within them, I am at home. I am deep in rest, my back the fingers stroke, and they play with my hair, this escape is full of my hope, because while I’m away in mind, I am here and now, though some would say my consciousness is not. I relish these afternoon escapes, the siestas which take me away to a feeling of nothingness, of wanted emptiness, nothing here is awry, nothing is astray. And close to waking I experience the most amazing thing, I rouse slowly and recollect remnants of a dream, someone perhaps who I have missed without realising? Or perhaps I simply am recalling them fondly. I rarely remember my dreams, and when I do, the fragment slips from memory, perhaps the dream was a message, or something else – I nod knowingly – maybe revelations will unfold naturally. © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. Photo by cottonbro from Pexels
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Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
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