At one with the night

It is 4:53am,and once again,I am awake and,for some reason,acutely alert to my body and my surroundings.I have just returned from my garden where I kept my three beloved dogs company as they investigated the grass and bushes that constitute the small patch of earth I call home.I was actually able to breathe on my own outside,no inhalers or artificial aids whatsoever;I feel rested.My pain level this morning is,for the moment,tolerable;and I am grateful for the respite,however brief that may be.I have learned on these occasions to be at one with nature,and to somehow put my body on "charge mode",it helps when the pain is more acute later,to have some "reserve power",if I may use the term,in my personal battery store.The night is deafeningly quiet,every sound,however miniscule,amplified like the crack of a gunshot;breaking the stillness and reminding oneself that however unimportant one feels;one is still,unexpectedly and,in my case unwillingly, alive.My dogs skitter nervously at the indignant "whit"of an owl,disturbed at his pontifications by our presence,and I soothe them with a quiet hush as they meander around my garden chair in search of reassurance.The sky seems starless,with a hazy moon staring down balefully,dimly illuminating my part of the world,highlighting the crisp sharpness of the frost,glinting like diamonds on the trees and bushes around me.The world remains asleep,and I feel like the last man alive.How strange that feels,when in truth,I long for it to be otherwise,but,at least for this moment,it is tolerable to be here.I sit and chew gratefully on my favorite pipe,long since lit since I gave up smoking;but comforting in a strange,masochistic way.Yes journal,I will remain alive today,I pray that I can retain this uneasy feeling of inner peace for at least a brief period of time,for my world consists of moments,fragments of space which I inhabit in which my mood can swing like a pendulum,but for now,I can be still in my quietness and breathe.