Sleep in a turbulence

The rolling thunder that is held in our heads when trying so hard to fall asleep. Why not just shutdown?  Why not hold the breath so sleep may come?

Argh. This crude way to breathe, to be. Holding onto a moment. Tangible I am here but next minute grouchy. Thankful that a distraction could be plausible.

At last a mellow,  even breath is found and the smile sits upon my flushed cheeks.

Random rolling of twisted fabric. Nothing really makes sense except to pray for some sleep.

Only the mind is distant and quite lost. Holding onto a glimpse of peace and yet nothing is there,  momentarily.

Soon the body shuts down. Telling the mind to obey otherwise no recovery is there.

Slowly. Slowly a prayer is found. The night becomes daylight and the eyes flutter shut.

A bit of peace before the air rushes back on.

A small hope.