Resting My Mind

An hour past midnight, my sleep wanders off and the twin sisters Worry appear.
They stopped by on impulse, they say, while yoo-hooing and knocking and peering thru the sheered curtains that cover the windowpane, in the back door of my mind.

Interpreting silence as clear invitation, they come barging in, chatting mindlessly, endlessly,
heeding neither the hour, nor its' passing nor the need of rest for the day called Tomorrow which in reality is just hours away.

They poke around, questioning, commenting, arguing with each other and me, reasoning long after reason had left, leaving nothing but noise and more comments and questions and why-nots and how-comes and on-on and on 'til I finally say to them both right out loud: "Shut UP!"

Then the whispers begin again, questions quite quietly questioned, that question the questions: the why and the how and the why-nots and how-comes. I lose it. I join them, explaining to justify
just how and surely why should I (or not), and the reason for reasons and reasons for therefores, full knowing when dawn comes it's then they will leave, bidding sweet, fond farewell to me, thanking repeatedly, sweetly, long-windedly,. "Oh, the sweet fellowship surely we shared!" And I'll doze off contented --- well, somewhat contented--- just knowing that I won the war. (So there!)

But the clock, facing towards me, sees fluttering eyelids and regular breathing and doing it's duty, shouts "OH! Whadda Morning! Get Up! It's a Doosie! Ya Gotta Get up!" And I hear him.

I do. Yes, I'm ready, I promise I'm ready. So SHUT UP already! I'm Up. I'll BE ready, I promise, I'm ready already to rest just a minute, in silence.

And an hour past daylight, my sleep wanders in and the twin sisters Worry are now nowhere near me, to keep me from resting my mind.