Edge of the Bed, Edge of the World

"You have to dream before your dreams can come true."

I woke with a—

some kind of feeling

in the soles of my feet

as they hit the board at the end of the bed.

The window

to the edge of the room

was beneath me,

for some unknown reason

and I was locked frozen.

wind swept

through my hair

and I felt

a brief moment

of anything but despair,

before I felt the shift.

~

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."

Harrowing,

a real character-building

disaster

from the earth and the universe

to me,

but, I don't feel it,

no—

I don't feel anything,

as my limbs start to numb.

Phantom existence?

all I think is hold on.

~

But the pull

to fall

and yield

is stronger than

the compulsion

to fight,

flight is winning.

~

I try to scream

I try to shout

but no words

no sounds

come out.

~

There's a pause

a moment of clarity

where everything

falls into place

as I feel the pull

to drift away

~

I close

my eyes

and wish

for a quick and painful,

whatever is next,

is next,

but then, a shift.

a voice, a calling,

a beacon of something

like hope,

fills my eardrums,

reverberates

around the room,

vibrates and pulses

with life,

a living entity,

as I feel the 180-twist,

the transition.

~

"The best way to make your dreams come true is to wake up."

Between

near-death and infinity,

immortality in physical form,

as physics are twisted to bring me

as a nudge on my shoulder rouses me.

I awaken,

not given forth to the earth.

*

Thanks for reading!

Author’s Notes: This is my second and final entry for The Road Drops Here challenge. The Epigraphs/quotes in this poem are from A.P.J. Abdul Kalam, Eleanor Roosevelt, and Paul Valéry.

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