Beds

 

To some it's just a bed,

Somewhere to sleep in oblivion,

suspended animation,

when to the world we're dead.

But sometimes

it's something else

instead -

A magic carpet to take us on a ride,

through epics and adventures

we may learn what's hidden

inside.

 

A bed to some may be a task,

a domestic chore,

Something we make 

and no questions asked,

An arena to perform in,

a nest to grow warm in,

A stage or a cage

in a relationship,

Life-forming or reforming,

A calmness -

or a storm-warning.

 

The bed of others

may blossom undercover,

A treatment table

for a therapeutic lover,

A place of work 

in the clinical commission,

A counterpane converted

by a stunning proposition. 

 

But the best bed -

It's a shelter and safe haven,

A portal to another age,

a gateway to infinity, futures,

and timeless, swirling pasts.

Flames flicker and glow 

on primeval cave walls,

And link us to untold years

through precious days and hours,

Dreams built on a sturdy frame

and hearts and flowers.

 

That's when you know -

this bed -

not mine or yours -

 

It's ours.