The peace of midnight, All is still, Except the mind, Churning of its own will, A silence broken By creeping thoughts. Bereft of dreams Small comforts sought. Words spring unbidden Upon this page, Seeking freedom From a sleepless cage.
Can silence be broken By electrical currents Surging relentlessly Through synapses burnt?
The endless jolts Disrupting all rest A stirring of limbs To rise from my nest.
So I wander the night, Or at least my thoughts do, Escaping the quiet For a moment or two.
Yet sleep is elusive, The wiliest beast, Hunting is useless, It must come in peace.
So I sit in the darkness, The stillness, The calm, Repairing that silence, I still the alarms, Cultivating tranquility, In orderly rows, Ploughed fields of disquiet Ready to sow The seeds of dreams planted In my mental farm,
The burbling chatter of thoughts Disarmed.