“They saw their injured country's woe;
The flaming town, the wasted field;
Then rushed to meet the insulting foe;
They took the spear, - but left the shield.”
―Philip Freneau
Friday, October 23, 2015
Insomnia
Thin are the night-skirts left behind
By daybreak hours that onward creep,
And thin, alas! the shred of sleep
That wavers with the spirit's wind:
But in half-dreams that shift and roll
And still remember and forget,
My soul this hour has drawn your soul
A little nearer yet.
Our lives, most dear, are never near,
Our thoughts are never far apart,
Though all that draws us heart to heart
Seems fainter now and now more clear.
To-night Love claims his full control,
And with desire and with regret
My soul this hour has drawn your soul
A little nearer yet.
Is there a home where heavy earth
Melts to bright air that breathes no pain,
Where water leaves no thirst again
And springing fire is Love's new birth?
If faith long bound to one true goal
May there at length its hope beget,
My soul that hour shall draw your soul
For ever nearer yet.
Instead of cursing as we toss and turn, Arise –– surrender –– celebrate –– rejoice! Sleeplessness is nothing we should spurn. Night Consciousness allows us to give voice
In precious solitude to every thought –– Assess our every action –– analyze The worth of everything that we've been taught –– A chance to look at life with open eyes.
In ways impossible amidst the Crush Quotidian concerns impose. The Grind Gives no Repose, and so along we rush, Thus rendering ourselves to Wonders blind.
So, Sleeplessness, sweet Angel of the Night, May bless us with the Gift of keen Insight.
~ FreeThinke (10/25/15 - 6:20 AM)
'Tis wise before one bathes or dons a bonnet To start each day creating a new sonnet! ;-)
_____ The Blessing of Insomnia _____
ReplyDeleteInstead of cursing as we toss and turn,
Arise –– surrender –– celebrate –– rejoice!
Sleeplessness is nothing we should spurn.
Night Consciousness allows us to give voice
In precious solitude to every thought ––
Assess our every action –– analyze
The worth of everything that we've been taught ––
A chance to look at life with open eyes.
In ways impossible amidst the Crush
Quotidian concerns impose. The Grind
Gives no Repose, and so along we rush,
Thus rendering ourselves to Wonders blind.
So, Sleeplessness, sweet Angel of the Night,
May bless us with the Gift of keen Insight.
~ FreeThinke (10/25/15 - 6:20 AM)
'Tis wise before one bathes or dons a bonnet
To start each day creating a new sonnet! ;-)
~ Anonymous
lol!
ReplyDelete...but I need to go to work in the morning.
Work is the curse of the Thinking Class.
ReplyDelete