Every day, one of our first tasks is to make the bed. The last one up makes it! Like shaking an Etch A Sketch toy, smoothing the sheets and bed cover erases the chaos of the night’s twists and turns, a metaphor perhaps for the way our minds clear themselves of sleep and the world of dreams. If I were a dismal poet, I’d wonder if we are like wrinkles of a sheet, like dreams found in sleep, soon to be smoothed away, soon to be forgotten. When God wakes up and clears his head, what will remain of us once he’s made his bed? Fear of God is the beginning of understanding. Without love, we are nothing. But we are loved, even our wrinkles.


Photo of an unmade bed.
Photo and text copyright 2018 by Danny N. Schweers

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Wanda wrote:
Looks like a Madonna and child to me. Loving her child.

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