It was late in the night, one woke up with a notion for a cold glass of water. Mind still working in slower ways, clumsy bumping in the dark , a chair here, a table there. The only guiding source was the slit light escaping from underneath the kitchen door. With hands outstretched one wondered how helpless at times it felt. But our wants drive us through our helpless stages. Propelled by thirst risking bumps into furniture, moving forward. Delight was felt with first touch of finger tip with kitchen door. The joy of find remains unadulterated, pure and delightful. To reach out and find what we are looking for is divine even in the dead of the night.
Going back to bed, satisfied deeply with the cold glass of water, dreamland returns just like a movie starting from a pause button. Back to dreams for tomorrow will be another night, another search for the cold glass of water.
