We fight sleep
We, the insomniacs
Who use the dark to create
The fragile tendrils of daydreams.
That weave screens to seclude
Those worlds sacred to ourselves.
We lift our long fingers of thought
Into the deep blanket of night
That covers our singularities,
And we are alone.
Away from troubles, from demands,
And become what we wish to be;
The image is of Claude Monet's Water Garden and the Japanese Footbridge from 1900.
I hope anyone passing through enjoyed this delightful poem. I was getting ready to put the computer on standby to do research or perhaps off, as I have indeed suffered from insomnia. The poem was found courtesy of the most important woman in my life-my mom!