I jerk out of sleep as if from a dream of falling. My heart
is pounding faster than seems possible, an automatic machine gun inside my
chest. I cross my palms over my heart and feel it pulsing against my ribcage.
Night after night, I have been waking this way, stuttering also
the sleep of my cat companion, Caramel Sundae Bear. He speaks his annoyance,
shifts and re-settles, grumbling, and then blesses me with the forgiveness of
his steady, rhythmic purr. My heart slows….
Why? Why am I waking, in every night’s most wee hour, as if
from a nightmare? The question becomes a prayer and is instantly answered. The
still, small voice tells me that I know this midnight manifestation for what it
is: the physical echo of an emotional
allegory that is currently stomping around my life. I am not waking from a
literal nightmare each night but, metaphorically, in the light of day, I’m
waking from a nightmare that I’ve been dreaming for decades.
