Preservation and the Quest for Light

Late night, so called fag end of the day. This is the time when I usually hit the hay. All energy used up, thoughts churning rather than running through my head at this stage, making me feel it would be better to crash, then wake up fresh and be ready to go again, ready to spin the wheel on the eternal quest for the source of inner sunshine. It used to be the case many years ago that the night time was the right time to get what seemed like the important things done. The time when things would come alive and those early hours were the only place to be. Not so anymore, those days have long since disappeared, into the fog of personal history, half remembered sometimes like broken pieces of wood drifting onto shore. Now I simply try to conserve whatever I have which, quite frankly, isn't that much anyway; but whatever it is I know I'm gonna need it when I try once more to step back into the light.