nothing comes to sleepers but a dream

nothing comes to sleepers but a dream

fiction
edward w pritchard

Every year or two my heart Doctor the specialist has the Talk with me. It's about sudden death that occurs among former heart attack patients of which I am one. It's odd because my health is good now and because of medication, formerly having some heart valve surgery and closely watching my diet, exercise and health habits I feel and sleep well, enjoy living and have totally come to grips with the brutal fact that he who is born must die, some sooner than others. Death occurs unexpectedly to us all eventually.

Of course this is a gruesome topic to discuss, especially unpleasant to the younger folks. In my case my grip reaper of sad tidings is a polite and urbane smallish civilized Doctor who about once a year feels compelled to remind me of Reality as it is.

Reality has a way of teaching one to adjust their philosophy to life as it is in fact. As the Blues doctor, not the heart Doctor but an old sad black guy with a twanging guitar says " nothing comes to sleepers but a dream". Meaning wake up and live and see things as they are. It's later than you think.

Don't wait for imaginary friends or things to come and rescue you. Get to the business of life yourself. You know what to do. You are unique in Nature. Develop, live thrive.

Hear the crackle of new life under the  ice and snow that entraps us. Get up move, reach out. Free your sleeping spirit from it's entrapped enclosure.