Nocturnal Musings

Nocturnal Musings
…when the poet cannot sleep…

As asleep the world does lie,
I am awake and watch the sky
to behold what might be there
upon the wings of my prayer.

Alone in my nocturnal life,
I fight and wrestle all the strife
which visits me in mental curls
as all around emotions whirl.

I am a poet, am I not?
Were it not so, I would have thought
That I would know, I would see
the truth of this reality.

I take up pen and start to write,
the moon, the stars my only light.
Mystic muses call my name
and set within my heart a flame.

Upon the paper clean and white,
the words unfurl as I write
and form themselves into a poem,
something new, not yet known.

If in these words, I find release;
perhaps then I can fall asleep
and if to sleep, then to dream
of sitting by a quiet stream.

And if in that stream, I can leap
making my way out to the deep
of ocean vast with ebb and flow
new possibilities I can know.

If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
But if I wake, I’ll once again
take up my paper and my pen.

Copyright © September 26, 2009 by Karen M. Crump

Inspired by: 

ID: 1602759   (Rated: E) The Book (Religious Version)  To those who journal through insomnia! by Dan Sturn

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