SPINNING AGAIN

by Mik

I like to look at him sleep. Those stern features relaxed and content. How can he do it? Doesn't he fear all the catastrophes of the cosmos? No. He shifts and sighs. The night is his blanket.

The night is a miasma to my mind, creeping in and sending it spinning again into a whorl of 'what if's, 'why not's and 'what would happen's. Yet, I will sleep tonight. Because he sleeps.

He sleeps that fabled sleep of the just. He is my rock and I rest in the lee of him. Protected from the chaos, knowing the sun will not implode. The earth will not fall off its axis, the planets will remain aligned.

He has shrugged off all worries. Nothing will happen while he rests. For he has willed the universe into stillness so he can sleep. And in the morning, he'll rise and set it all spinning again.

- END -