Rainy Night

It is a late on a warm, early summer evening. After a stuffy,  humid day the rain has arrived, cooling and clearing the night air.  I sit in bed exhausted after a long day. The sound of the rain outside is like a sedative that adds weight to my already heavy eyelids. I feel the urge to write something. I'm not exactly sure why, but I pick up my tablet and begin jotting notes. Like a car running out of fuel, my brain engages then disengages on seemingly random intervals. Refocusing I see partial sentences on the page, disconnected thoughts, nouns and verbs standing alone and isolated from any relevant context but connect in some way that I just don't have the energy to perceive.

The siren call to sleep is echoing in my ears. Consciousness is retreating and along with it the worries of the day. The faint breeze from the fan caresses me face and arms, carrying away the anxiety and stress.  I am offline.  Thoughts are mingled, disconnected and fleeting as the tide of slumber washes over me in gentle waves.   My soul is at peace. The rain continues its patter. The world retreats in slow, measures steps. I succumb to the rich comfort of sleep, thankful for the gift.