2 a.m., again

Well, the boy with his dog awoke at 2 a.m. again, that is my super power. A 2 a.m. alarm that brings me to full awake. I lay there thinking of Her. Looking into those changing eyes hearing Her laugh. I think of my children. Are they sleeping well? What are they dreaming? How I would love to peek in on them as I did when they were younger. I think of roads behind and roads ahead, rough and smooth.I think of wolves, of bears, of birds, I think of trees. One in particular. I think of leaving, of packing. Of what I will leave behind, will I leave anything behind? Will I be remembered when I'm gone? Do I want to be? When I type of "gone" here, I refer to death. See how my mind leaps and soars into the weirdest corners of the room? I do so with a crayon, so I have been told. Like a two year old scribbling on the walls, I take off in every and any direction. It is no fault of mine, it's my brains'. So put him in time out, not me! I'm going outside to play!!! I think of my family, current and past. The trails I have walked and those yet to stroll upon, jump in my mind. New smells, old smells, sights, sounds, tastes. Running through my mind like a streaker at a football game, this way and that, being chased by the police of reason, these thoughts escape me. And the reason police for that matter! All these things bleed through staining the canvas of my mind.
And then I think: Whatever this boy and his dog encounter, She will be there, holding my hand, chasing behind me with a rag to remove the crayon from the wall. And now, I am smiling.