75 miracles logged; return of the odd sock pile & a vivid nightmare

Recognising a fear definitely counts as a miracle. Fear makes you appreciate life,  knowing what you fear helps you know yourself etc. 
And no one should ever underestimate the importance of socks. 

Laid like pulled teeth
In fields, straw monoliths 
Celebrate transition
Summer crop winter fodder 

Along the pavement shines
Islands of mirrored light
Rainwater pools in uneven
Corners of wonky slabs

In each reflective surface 
An upside-down lamppost
It is an image, a visual
Echo, bouncing back

Under tarmac, under earth
Deeper, geological dramas
The rock is boiling
Pushing at plate boundaries

Tectonics are beyond control
At the fault-lines, minerals, metals
Water, volcanoes bubble up
The gods and monsters of geology

Night rests above, not across
All of Earth, there is not enough
To go around, we share 
Day and night in rotation

In the cloak of sleep, fears
Are smuggled in, revealing
Points of weakness as we 
Wake to check the breech

In sleep, destinies are
Settled in or driven out
Dreams can solidify, be
Processed into truth

Seven odd socks heaped, one
Close to reconciliation, four
Close enough to match
Two keep company and wait

Messages are sent at all hours
On rising, we can be busy
Immediately, night images
Compressed, not deleted

Describe the different densities
Of darkness, if you are awake
Go outside, away from
Artificial shadow

This night is solid, cast from lead
Endless solidity, the infinity of it
Can provoke vertigo, the weight
Of it presses out your breath

Close your eyes, it will not
Get darker, the abyss is 
Everywhere, it is not part
Of you, you are part of it

This is the shade of feeling
Perfect beautiful sadness
In which you curl up and hide
Like a tiny shell under a storm

Curl small in the depths
Allow the squall overhead
To pass, there is nothing
To be done to influence it

This is the safe vantage of
Gentle nostalgia, this darkness
Loops around, wraps you up
Swoops, holds, suspends

Anxiety rises like a bruise
A tender point of recent injury
This hurt cannot be compressed
It must be free to heal

Like strong black coffee
Alert to the point of
Paranoia, the air quivers
Shakes with fear

Cold limbs tremble cannot 
Move, heart thumps hot, it
Burns to live, longs for another 
Ordinary day to marvel at


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