Untitled - June 19, 2002

Sleep is a long time coming
in the quietest hours of the night,
where the silence that surrounds you
makes every breath sound that much louder.

Every twist, and every turn
brings no relief in sight,
magnifying the very fact
that you're awaiting the return to light.

In the darkness
broken only by the waning streetlights,
all the white noise
moves to the foreground,
playing counterpart
to the jumble of thoughts
that run through our mind.

Even when eyes are closed,
the mind runs wild,
snippets of the past crashing
through the emptiness
strived for.

Slow breaths, deep sighs,
and absolute silence
gradually serve
to ease the mind;
only to awaken again
to the knowledge
that dawn has come
once again.