don’t think twice, it’s alright

what if tomorrow I don’t wake up?

this isn’t a morbid or even particularly dark reflection,

but simply recognition that life

is fleeting.

we

are fragile.

sometimes I focus a bit too much on fragility,

on inevitability and the consequent inconsequential-ism.

and this should lead me to release from concern,

but I remain concerned.

and that should lead me to action,

but I’m tired.

so, what if I don’t wake up?

I say, “sleep is good.

and you’ll be fine.”

but you contest,

“fine is the worst,

and sleep isn’t sleep

without dreams.”

fine might be the worst,
but contentment might be
for what we really hope.

and who said I wouldn’t dream?

I dream now,

and metaphor is only animated by loss of logic.

and, to us now, what is death but that:

the animation of our greatest metaphors?

and what is a metaphor but extrapolation

of things seen unto things unseen,

or rather of things understood

unto things not understood,

or rather,

in the case of the problems of consciousness,

of this tangible world

unto that sublime slumber that

draws each of us in:

as our heads nod and our eyes get heavy,

as perception disconnects and emotionalism overcomes (and how),

as the hour grows late and the birds awake

surely we’ll fear not that infinite slumber,

but instead yearn for a cosmic pillow.

and if I don’t wake up,

that’s ok—
I've a decent command of metaphor.