Caren Krutsinger Poet Narrative

My Astral Travelling

My soul leaves sixteen minutes after I reach the bed.
It’s not that I have it timed, it’s that I know 
Without knowing how I know
Hear those gentle puffy breaths?
They come from my body, automatically.
I am not in there, and she does not care.
No concern. At last she can fully relax. 
Because I have been released.

My soul is zooming around, checking out the night people.
I travel from alley to honkytonk, looking on, amazed.
As people do what people do naturally in the middle of the night.
Thinking the world cannot see them.
I see, and I smirk. Glad I know how to astral travel.
Thank you Daddy for this gift.
He lumped it into being a psychic. 
I attribute it to being an empath; no matter.
I am here now.

It is now three thirty a.m. 
There is a silence in the world that cannot be explained.
People have paired up and are having sex in cars or apartments.
There is a smell of urine in the air thanks to the homeless.
I travel to a far off hill and enjoy a hoot owl’s call.
Bam! The silver thread pulls me back to my body.
I go in kicking and screaming
as usual

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L Milton Hankins January 31, 2022 at 10:05 AM This is an ability I do not have. I would think that one would be awfully tired in the morning after those kinds of experiences. I have a friend whose husband seems to have travelled like that. Caren Krutsinger January 31, 2022 at 7:45 PM My husband says if there is a fire he could never wake me. I am not "there". I know sometimes when I return I wake up alarmed, feeling like a cougar has just pounced on my chest. It is my soul returning too fast to slow down as it enters my heart.