Sleep Deprivation

This 'poem' was inspired by Cindy's post of July 15, 2005 (click on title for link). Yes, I am that far behind. Part of the reason is that I am staying up all night to read, and clean out closets as well as stargaze. One night I listened to a neighbourhood orgy downriver, an unusual thing in these parts. I called the police, talked to the police and my three year old grandson was up then, thinking the police had come to the house because he had fallen out of bed. Then, of course, we were all awake and had to stay up longer to see how the cops would handle the violence. It took them several hours to set up their intervention. All has been quiet since. Not a light is showing from across the river after dark. But the habit of late hours is well...read about it:

Hunger for quietness
can be addictive.
The house at rest,
deep darkness,
wee hours
stolen from
the abyss of sleep,
aloneness.
Staying up all night
is habit forming.

But
Lunacy feasts
on too much dewy grass,
sips of silken summer air,
bites of coming frost,
the flavour of northern lights,
starsong and moonset.
Finally it renders a giant belch of
overindulgence in solitude and nightcraft.

Hangover the next morning.
Moderation in everything.
Excess in nothing.
Creativity exists in balanced appetites,
cravings held in check,
a strict diet of sleep and wakefulness
in healthful portions.

Sweet Dreams, all.

Constance 08/05