Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Night's diamonds fade; with quiet rosy hues
Horizon's verge the sleepy sky imbues.
Apollo bids his chariot arise
And sparks his sacred fire to light the skies.
And yet we sleep. Some dim-illumined screen
Reveals soft shadow-shapes of play and scene
Where mind acts out strange tales of love or strife:
Pale imitations of our worldly life.
Are we awake? Or do we wander yet
Among the phantoms that we'll soon forget?
Through eerie corridors each turn we take
The drug of sleep has dulled the will to wake.
We wrestle with the light, our dreams to keep,
To hold and understand our thoughts in sleep;
But Morpheus decrees that dreams remain
Secure with him 'til sleep shall come again.
Could we but hold the pleasant of these tales!
Cast out the bad, while memory regales—
But try and try, in hope we might recall
The dawning glow has burned away them all.
© 2004 Jeffrey Hull