I am alone tonight in darkness, but I stare at its depth.
Late at night, I value silence most of all, the deep and calming quietude of darkness, when the raging winds and clashing swords of my world are quiet, and am I alone, I feel free.
In the sunlight I am thrust upon by thousands, hands groping urgently for my attention, leaving me no rest, and I am leaping from form to form to please and yet I am not there, no more than shadow
I thrash and turn and struggle and burn and nothing, nothing stops the spinning room, nothing eases the crazy vacillation, the swing of my eyes from here to there and I have nowhere I am nowhere…
Breathe, breathe slowly. exhale.
The electric hum floats along the carpet, hiding when I look away. Outside, a car or two quietly whooshes along, rushing to the cool pillows that cradle their sleepy heads.
Late at night, I am myself, and the world, weary, sleeps, silent falls the clarion’s call, quiet ends the bugle’s cry, away falls the jumble of the day, and my eye and mind’s eye see the same vision.
I am alone tonight in darkness, but I stare at its depth. The darkness softly, quiet, comforts, calms. Across the canvas of my eyelids movies play, random flashes fusing into notes and tones.
dreams, visions across my cornea play, but these are not the wild terrible orgy of day.