Sleep

I staunchly enjoy spelunking into the cavernous depths of ineffable slumber after a busy day stuffed with activities. There is no better feeling. The head rests on the pillow, the skin and bones almost melt into the cool blanket, and then the noetic mind takes off into the commodious recesses of Dreams-R-Us like a night rider mounting a blazing chariot of twilight fire. Then there is the waking state reasserting itself after eight to ten hours of epic--and I mean E-P-I-C--sleep. Here I love the lazy stretching of rigid limbs, the nascent thoughts that deal with the new day, and, once again, the cool sensation of the blanket. There is so much beauty shared between the blanket and the sensuous organ-membrane known as the skin. I love it.