In the early hours of dawn
Insomnia grips me a third night coming
With not but a wink to spare
Picking strings in the living room
Meditation in the gardens
Still no rest
Pacing about the house
Then pacing about the yard
Surely the body knows best
What a feeling
So far as I can tell
To be the only man without slumber
Save for the call of a prowling night cat
The chirp of a bird unsure
The distant objection of a dog who knows
In a house all but vacant besides me
I am as good to be an animal myself
For who so better to take me into company
Than creatures of night both present and unseen
To form a union of greeters for daylight
For though sleep is what I most desire
But still what I most lack
My cup remains full
With that of the Whiskey Tea Nightcap
An unsuccessful attempt at rest
I resolve to seek the outdoors again
Only bread for breakfast and unadulterated tea
The world now alive to keep me company
And yet here I sit so unsocially
Insufficient to speak
A performance at all too weak
My most accomplished device
My right hand alone
Equipped with but a pen to pronounce
What left the brain will spew
Only an inkling of the present moment
For not much else can it render further
To give pause for even a second
Is to lose it all in its entirety
Yet this is exactly what becomes
And I cease to write further
Lost in a sea of muddled thoughts
Until the dreaming world finds me
And claims me out of pity
And so I sit awaiting some form of restoration
In hopes of a day anew