ODA - I

ODA - I

Oda woke up

from his long slumber.

Or, did he?

Was he merely dreaming

that he had woken up?

Or, at least,

that he was waking up?

Oda had slept through

all his life,

all the long, five decades

that he had existed

biologically.

Part of the sleep

was, of course,

actual sleep.

Part of the sleep

was, of course,

the zombified living

that we all do: lost in

‘the dreary desert sand of dead habit’.

Part of the sleep

was also, of course,

the sum of those rare moments

when he was fully awake,

fully aware, fully living.

But perhaps, that sum,

Oda felt today,

was so miniscule,

the moments of awareness so rare

as to merely constitute

a dream:

a vivid, a realistic,

a colourful dream.

But a dream, nevertheless.

And today,

he had decided to make

that dream, a reality:  

he had decided to remain awake,

aware

for the remaining moments

of his life.

He told himself

that he must now

be mindful always. 

If he could, even during

his biological sleep.

Would Oda keep his word

that he had given himself?

Could he?

Only time

will tell.

-

owais

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This is first being published here.