Monday, August 17, 2009

Collapsing anywhere

I wake up from sleep
as if from a bath
of beautiful black water,
freed from all wrath.

Like an eager coffin,
my bed engulfs my all.
Deeper it takes then size may show;
in water a stone's fall.

In months of macabre heat
when time melts away.
Space is all that pervades
and budges not the day.
In macabre months like these
the only panacea I keep-
clinging even to a snail's shadow,
an hour or two of sleep.

Sleep for those who weep-
for tears in that dark do seep.
Sleep for the unheard meek-
to hear one's own self speak.
Sleep for the broken or bent back,
for he needs rest more than anyone.
Sleep for those who sleep
for simpler joys and pure fun.

A sleeping man is allowed all-
walk, blabber, on the floor fall.
While others pardon you, the insane you,
fling out far your deepest call.

Sleep immeasurable, the sleep that is yours.


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