My Santiago

In the nightmare of my soul (June 1997)

Cautiously I awake, One eye after the other, Prised loose from sleep’s embrace, But wide awake now. On full alert, Sentry to the phantoms of the grey dawn.

Now is the time of quiet, Intense, even absolute!

Where fearful thoughts come to the fore, Where courage, brimming in daylight hours, Now ebbs! Where spirits quail at this life, Where the certainties of the daylight hours Are but a poor, distant lie! I swing legs off the bed in unison. Placing my soles firmly on the floor, I rise, Deliberate and receptive to the time and place, Deferential, Willing to be the trespasser in my own house!

I do my ‘rounds’, Peering outside,

Admiring the ‘blue’ mountains, Just glimpsed from my lounge, Walk into my son’s room.

He, the yardstick of my world, Sleeps, innocent and care less! I stand inert, motionless, And in the silence, detect the cadence of his breath, Measured and strong, And gather my strength from it.

The world as I know it, My world, Is as it should be! And so, I turn and move back to bed, Ready to resume the night!