The Joy of Insomnia

The darkened rim
Of the witless world
Is on fire.

No one may save me
From this
Silent conflagration,

This baptismal hush:
For this moment,

Speechless awe,
Turning wonder;

i dance
In the vanishing dark
Like a fool

While, all around me,
Sensibility sleeps.

For you
My eyes
Will never close

My mind
Will never stop conjuring.

As morning rears up
And our brief business

i will shoulder the wheel
And strain toward
The promise of peace,

But i will never
Be more grateful
Than now,

Even as peace,
That shy ghost,
From my grasp...

--Mr. Gobley


Richard Lawrence Cohen said...

Mr. Gobley, are you kidding? I got four hours of sleep last night and I've got songs running maddeningly through my head.

Mr. Gobley said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Mr. Gobley said...

Ah, well, friend Richard: your problem with sleep is that you got four hours too many.

(i had to erase my previous comment: i mistyped when i fell asleep at my computer ...)