April's A-Z Challenge is put to bed :-) 

Sleep is the drift between one day and another. Dreams come from this: tumbles of thought and hope and things that happened that we saw, or heard about, or felt.
Night spreads like wet ink, slippery as squid, heavy eyelids sink, sink.
Deep, down: drowned in sleep: subsumed. Held in suspension: sleep is a chrysalis.
As we wake, shade becomes colour.

Yes, I remember now. And if I were never here, the lightness would mean so much less.

I remember, I regain: swim upwards, laughing.


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