Pots and pans.


I awoke to the sound of pots gently knocking about on their hanging rack. It's 2 am.

But they were not making a sound. It was only in a surreal dream. It woke me anyway. The house is quiet. The cats are all asleep, for now. This is not the first time I have been awaken in this manner. Sometimes it a voice calling my name. Always the same voice. It's a womans. But I don't know her. Nor do I know why she calls to me. Is it just to wake me? If this is so why? Perhaps she is warning me.

Tonight there was no voice. Just the sound of the pots and pans. Is this a new way for her? I don't know. In the fullness of time I may learn who or what this voice is.

I do know she means me no harm. I always feel as if someone is watching over me, when it happens.

Sleep alludes me this night. I hope to sleep before the sun makes it self known.

With the rain in earnest the sun hides from sight. It's warmth all but forgotten. Just another day.

I will return to my room, an empty bed warm and comfortable awaits.

Off I go in the hopes that slumber will greet and welcome me with open arms.

I shall be granted rest at last.

Pots and pans

Posted by admin on May 05, 2014