my recollection
of when the shift began
may only be viewed
through opalescent glass

but at some point in my early 30’s
i rediscovered the magic of my bed
the restorative power of the midday nap

overcome with a sudden awareness
one needs sleep more
than stay-up-late-night projects
bourbon
or splendor in the grass

i bought better sheets
adorned it with ridiculously ornate pillows
coordinated rugs
candles and lamps
duvet covers
better lovers

cleopatra would be envious

and then began doing everything on it
one would normally do upon a sofa
or seated at a desk
write read listen to music
perform radical feats of paperwork
snuggle furry family members
connect to the interweb
stand on my head

a cloud floating base of operations

my throne
my safe place
beneath the stars on the walls and ceiling
all made from the softest cotton

no monsters
no ghosts
no goose feathers

my love affair with my bed