after hours

The wee hours of the night have become my sacred time. When sleep has finally claimed the household, dog and cats, people are snoring, now I hear myself think. With each keystroke breaking the silence, I feel myself returning. The noises of the night have become my waking lullaby, bringing me joy with each barely audible hum or gentle sleepy purr.

For now, no one is needing me. For now, I am free. Welcome gentle night, I don't want to waste you sleeping. I want to be held in your silent solace. This is a good time for being.

I hear the house creak, softly, as if it is relaxing too. It is still too cold outside to have the windows open, and yet I can hear the trees outside, waking from their long winter sleep, preparing for their glorious resurrection of green, not long from now. Trees wake slowly, yet tomorrow, in the warmth of the day, I will see their nights work in the swelling buds.

When I am not so busy, when the darkness finally slows me down, I find that I feel the world more deeply. I like it. I want to remember it in all its subtle detail. The timbre of the cat's snores, the tiny scratching sound of the mouse that must be behind the wall. The mouse too has found this time to be safe.

I know I should go to bed. I should get some sleep. The sun and the raucous birds will wake us all in just a few hours, triggering mom's broken inner clock. The morning will start her reveille. Not bugle calls but water running, throat clearing coughs like hairballs, inner doors opening, my startled dog barking, and the sound of the cats fighting for her lap as she settles loudly into her chair will rouse us, to start the morning, to anticipate her needs before she stumbles.

Yes, I should go to bed. But the "wee hours" are so peaceful. I am loathe to relinquish this heaven, this glorious silence, just to feel a little more rested for what is bound to be another day of inevitable fatigue.

Why must we waste the best times sleeping? I type the question to the universe, a prayer of frustration. And my soul responds, "All times are the best times." And so sweet world, I will rest in your gentle quiet, and go to sleep. May my rested body remember that "all times are the best times" when I wake.

Amen