It’s like being gently swaddled in soft cotton
The world gets warmer, quieter, further off
And images begin to flood your mind
A mass of jumbled pictures of the day
For you to fit together into dreams
As you sink deep into oblivion
But just before you reach oblivion
When you can feel the texture of the cotton
Pillowcase against your cheek, when dreams
Wait in the wings until you do drop off,
You start to re-experience the day
And fit it all together in your mind
The time you said you really didn’t mind
But would have cursed them to oblivion
For making you look unprepared today
Floats up through those protective layers of cotton-
Wool we call subconscious. Shake it off
You’ll sort it out much later, in your dreams.
For that’s what they are for, all of your dreams
Not prophecies or omens, but your mind
Untangling itself. You start it off
In that brief space before oblivion
And after wakefulness, wrapped up in cotton
All safe and warm, you’re ready for the day
And all its meanings – for although the day
Is over, it comes back again in dreams
You wrap your feelings up in fluffy cotton
To keep them well protected in your mind
Then empty them into oblivion
Until you find, at last, you can switch off.
There’s something comforting in nodding off,
Abandoning the troubles of the day:
A homecoming into oblivion.
You snuggle in the waiting arms of dreams
And settle down to sorting out your mind
Protected from the night by soft, white cotton.
Alas, oblivion is so far off
No cotton sheets for me –there’s so much day
To get through. All my dreams still crowd my mind.
Tom Juniper Poetry 