Insomnia

 

Come beauteous sleep

O most reluctant bride

Kiss my recurrent mind

with bliss of oblivion.

 

Is there a word for that

endless recycling of

the same few inanities?

Oh whisper the counter-curse!

 

Oh cut the chain that binds

me to the surface in

joyless bobbing and jinking:

That I may slide into the deep.

 

Together we will search

through swell and ebb and depth

for the Peace that holds all wholeness

and the Rhythm that is rest.