Between the hours of 2:59 and 3:59
A poem and some tired thoughts
Hello,
I hope you are doing ok today. I’m still easing my way into this year, still not raring to go, still trying to find some words, still waking up far too early with a brain that is glitching and twitching.
As I feel the urge to pull away from the news and social media sharply and navigate my days with care and attention to those who are in my orbit, I hold the thought of what a privilege that is.
I wonder and question how I can show up to the world and show my children that I am not afraid, how I hope for change and hope to lead with compassion and care in the face of rage and polarisation.
As I sit with these questions, my mind turns to those who are now facing a time of fear, of uncertainty and of persecution and I look towards how I can help, how I can actively embody hope and take small actions to help others.
In the absence of new words and any concrete answers to these questions, here’s a poem I wrote last year. I also warmly invite you to join in the next few co-writing sessions, more details on those below.
Thank you so much for reading.
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Between 2.59 and 3.59 AM
Between 2.59 and 3.59AM is said to be the longest hour of the day
It’s a time when a mother stands at the window
Gazing at the moon, swaying and humming
Her soft outline weighed down with breasts warm with milk
And arms that have grown weary under the heft of a child
It’s a time when the man who sleeps alone lies awake
Wondering if he should have told his lover how he really felt
Whether the short sharp paper cut of vulnerability
Would have been easier to bear than a lifetime of loneliness
It’s a time when the night worker begins to tire
When the comfort of home and a cup of tea
Pulls at their edges and their concentration drops
When their mind wanders to the soft curve of their loved one nestled in bed
It’s a time when the face of a young man is lit by a blue screen
His head full of regret that he didn’t call his friend that morning
Or open his post
The feeling of comparison swirls in his stomach as he scrolls absentmindedly on his phone
It’s a time when a widow lies awake with her curtains open
The ghost of a smile flickers across her lips
As she’s held gently by the memories of him
And the years they spent together
Between the hours of 2.59 and 3.59AM
Somewhere in the world
Wars rage and fires burn
Babies are born and last rights are read
Lovers embrace and children stir in their sleep
And the same stars still shine above us all
Reminding us of what it is to hope, to wonder and to endure
Between the hours of 2.59 and 3.59 can seem like the longest hour of the day
But know you’re not alone
Next co-writing dates
It has been so very lovely to host these co-writing sessions and so lovely to sit in the company of others and write. I will be running more sessions in February after the half term, in the meantime here’s the next dates.
What to expect
The sessions last approximately one hour and fifteen minutes with a moment to pause and ground ourselves at the beginning and time at the end to have a little catch up (should you wish).
You don’t have to talk, you don’t have to bring anything specific to work on (I'll share a prompt in the chat), you don’t have to have your camera on, the whole idea is just showing up and spending some time with your words in the company of others.
These sessions are free and will take place at the following times and dates on zoom using the links below:
Monday 27th January | 13:00 - 14:15 UK time
Wednesday 29th January | 9:15 - 10:30 UK time
Monday 3rd February | 13:00 - 14:15 UK time
Wednesday 5th February | 9:15 - 10:30 UK time
Please email me if you want a little nudge to remember on the day and I can send you a reminder.