Lull Me to Sleep

This poem carries a gentleness that surprised me when I wrote it. It came late at night, almost like a lullaby being sung to me rather than by me; a soothing voice from somewhere deep within, asking me to rest, to surrender, to let myself be cared for.

I remember feeling so tender, almost childlike, as I wrote these lines. There’s an innocence in asking to be “rocked” and “sung to,” as if I was speaking to the Mother within all things, to the presence that holds us even when we feel alone. Writing this was a reminder that vulnerability is not weakness; it is where healing begins.

The lesson here is that rest is sacred. We live in a world that glorifies effort, action, and progress, but this poem reminded me that there is a power in being still and allowing ourselves to be nurtured. There is wisdom in stopping, in breathing, in letting ourselves be held. It takes courage to soften.

The distortion this poem helped dissolve was my subconscious belief that I always have to be strong, that I must hold myself together without help. This piece felt like permission to collapse into grace, to let my soul rock me like a child, to find peace in being rather than doing.

“Lull Me to Sleep” still feels like a whispered prayer to the universe. It’s a reminder that we are never truly alone, and that the Divine is always willing to cradle us, if only we’ll ask. There’s something deeply healing in this softness; it balances the intensity of other poems in this collection, offering a breath, a pause, a safe place to rest.