A softer place to rest

​I wake, bones complaining,
I find myself wishing for
A softer place to rest.
 
I lament my stone pillow,
My very thin mattress
With barely a blanket to cover.
 
I was tired, I remember
From many miles traveled,
No respite in sight nor in mind.
 
I was pushed to the limit
Of fragile resources without
A kind word to encourage.
 
I did struggle on by
Sheer force of my will,
Hoping my strength would suffice.
 
I toiled and I sweated,
I imagined, I dreamed of
A simple soft place to rest.
 
Then…I knew I was dreaming
Of a sad self-made journey to
A softer place to rest.
 
My couch, soft or not
Had felt like bare floor,
My comforts but few, insufficient.
 
Perhaps it was only my thought that
Needed and hopelessly craved
For comfort already around me.
 
If so, I would have to stop dreaming
Before I’d have some hope of finding
A softer place to rest.
 
I woke from the dream,
Turned my back to that story
Wishing one new to replace it.
 
Wishing turned serious
It morphed into hoping for
The softness and sweetness I craved.
 
From hope burst desire
With passionate intensity
Followed by a slight tinge of joy.
 
From trust grew belief with
Opportunity to nurture
The hope that began with slim promise.
 
With belief a new story
Began to be written,
A story of hope and of comfort.
 
Believing, I suddenly saw it,
A wondrously challenging journey,
Replete with great joys but no sorrows.
 
What before had been struggles,
Disappointment, no rest
Became a glorious adventure.
 
At the end of the day
Fulfillment emerged,
With a contented sigh I relaxed.
 
I chose a new story and
With it I found
A brighter, a lighter, a promising future,
And a very soft place to rest.