The Sleeper II

That barren silence, heaving and heavy-

kept finding its way into the roaring holocaust of my dismemberment like spasmodic headaches biting the sanity of time,

My brain rattled in my head trying to turn it into rhyme.

Dawn had risen again to go poaching in night's orchards

And moon in wide-eyed surprise was shocked to be an accomplice,

That orchestra of the night began to sing a muted litany-

and chance birthed constancy that left me in my epiphany.

The humming of the evening gave way to a stunning night,

For darkness dressed in regal light and starkness portrayed in pulsing might,

The night holds a beauty that the day misses in all its splendor,

These ululations ushered me to sleep under moon's gentle gaze.

- Frank