under cover.

I’m not talking about stealing them, or bunching them or even pushing them to the floor in the throes of passion; I’m referring to climbing under them on a cold rainy morning. This March morning, I hear the rain and wind whisper softly to my window.

I like to grab a bunch of the “shanket” (sheets/blanket combo) and wrap it tightly around my shoulders with a little over the top of my head to keep out the light of day. I also tend to bunch a clump in between my legs for reasons still unknown to me.

There is a subtle sense of safety and security that only a piece of woven cotton, a thick comforter and a soft mattress can provide. How is it that this cut of fabric can keep the monsters of the day ahead at bay? Perhaps it begins with the thunderstorms of childhood when your parent’s bed becomes a haven from the wrath of the heavens.

A place of peace provides a sanctuary of silence where dreams begin and nightmares end; a place where love takes hold, and bodies bind; a depth where pets sigh, tails wag and cold noses probe.

I never take for granted this place to sing my snore.



Filed under Life...

2 responses to “under cover.

  1. Cathy

    ahhh, an ode to the hallowed place that is our comfy bed on a rainy morning. I have always marveled that we all (well the blessed among us who have homes and beds) tuck into these soft “envelopes” at night and slip away to dreamland and parts unknown. It has always seemed kind of mysterious this sleep thing, and how after several hours spent in that envelope, we wake and want to stay there longer. Especially with a snuggly dog or kitty who encourages the continued delay to starting the day!

  2. Cathy…
    It’s just such a comfortable cocoon that I never take for granted (at having a “home” and a bed to call my own) and truly revel in, on those inclimate mornings. Also, a special shout-out to NAPS!

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