Dash (early hours)

9:59am

It is in the early hours that I get to be alone. There are no voices calling for me , demanding my time , presence or energy. The only thing that summons me is me. I lay in the bed contemplating what I should do; the silence in the room is too noisy and filled with gloom. Odd: that silence becomes cumbersome because all of my thoughts are dashing to the front of my mind competing for my time in solace. It is in these hours that I should be making the most of some quality time and enjoy myself. This is when I discover that I don't know how and I become politely envious of those who do. I can not focus and gets things done , cannot be bored and do nothing , instead my mind runs thoughts like a hamster on a wheel over and over until when can spill out enough for me to catch and clean the mess....is this the beginning of insanity

She sits in her stoop and plays with her hair, twisting locs into loop
Children laugh at her for that’s all she does all day...they call her the lady in the shoe
some wonder how long she will remain and is this truly all she will do
but when all are sleep , she takes a peak out the window to see and begins her dash to freedom.
Her luggage is packed and she's not sure when will be back
She's adorned in hues of purple and blue and new shade of red; something she can get used to
Where will she go this time?
Will she dance with the weave makers; perhaps become a basket maker
Her legs are strong she's been moving so long when no one can see dashing in and out of the darkness and shadows, she'll stand still this time and sift the sands for pearls
There has to be a rare black one there, maybe this time he'll be there and the can search together
So much to do , so much to do
She'll ride the waves of salty waters and return back as a dusty daughter
Dawn breaks and she must get back, so many things to unpack
In her window she sits twisting her locs
Staring out at tainted innocence wondering if they have ever truly lived

I think of old nursery rhymes and those that seem to be so despondent to life in the early hours. Perhaps it is just me but there seems to be a freedom of will that I can never see. That grasp on life in a way that others can never just let be. And in the early hours while thoughts run frantically perhaps I should just take a bag and pack to begin a journey. The idea of resting is grand but in honesty we have never been friends in the traditional sense.
Now I reflect back to an imaginative wild child with unique perspective and a will to be free, I have somehow become the woman in the window mundane and routine and alive in memories as analyzes the world in her mind.

As the early hours beckon me, I think I should let the thoughts run free without fear and pull out my good running shoes and see where they lead me.
10:23am