Saturday, May 9, 2020

poem

Insomnia

Insomniac, sleepless nights.
I can’t snooze in the glare of the cave.
What I need is the darkness in the heart of the sun.
This pillow is much too hard.
I seek the softness of a bed of rock,
The silence of a passing train,
The ear splitting din of the bottom of the pool.
I want to grasp the emptiness of love
That spills from the cup of abandonment.
I want to hold the universe in one clenched fist,
Distribute this grain of grace to every last soul.
I am the son of childless parents
Who believe in the fecundity of barren wombs.
This restless world, this gloaming without God
Becomes the soporific stillness of the holy dawn.

5/9/20

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