Sleepless: A Poem
it wasn't the coffee
nor anxiety
it is the thoughts
that swirl around
and linger
and push me here and there
if you can't sleep
you can't dream
who is dreaming my life?
is it Maya
only an illusion
the cycle of waking and dreaming
forever revolving and taking me with it
like the seasons
like night and day
an endless cycle
with no beginning or end
Comments
Mark Tulin from Ventura, California on July 20, 2018:
beautiful swirling poem. I hate being sleepless, miss my dreams.
Mary Norton from Ontario, Canada on July 17, 2018:
An endless cycle...life is...lovely poem.