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Torpidness and Unending Restlessness

I have stumbled across a new passion: writing. It is proving to be insightful and rewarding.

Eight trunks of pure white birch are standing tall gently whispering in the wind. On the banks of the lake waves slowly lap upon shore. The breeze is as kind as a tender breath warmly wafting upon my skin. Where there is time, there is yet another minute.

The moon is full and talks to me of comfort.
My rest is contemplated, my rest is an effort.
But sleep is elusive and not to be found.
It’s somewhere near, it’s somewhere around.

I desire to sleep, I desire my rest.
I’m irritable as hell, I can’t perform my best.
With expectations numerous and maybe too high,
I search my heart for healing, for strength to fortify.

My brain is foggy and all seems backwards.
I’m always tired, I’m always awkward.
I’m slow to respond, I’m sluggish at best.
When will my sleep allow me to rest?

So I’ll ask the moon for slumber, to send me sweet dreams.
I’ll close my eyes gently, breathe deeply extreme.
As I find the beauty and comfort the moon sends to me,
I’ll accept what little rest I humbly receive.

© 2020 Laurie S Novak

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