like blind men who know it is morning by feeling shadows

I wish to always be at awe with the world. And when I have breathed in all the wonder my lungs are capable of holding, I know that it will be time for the awaited sleep.

For The Sleepwalkers
Edward Hirsch

tonight i want to say something wonderful
for the sleepwalkers who have so much faith
in their legs, so much faith in the invisible

arrow carved into the carpet, the worn path
that leads to the stairs instead of the window,
the gaping doorway instead of the seamless mirror.

i love the way that sleepwalkers are willing
to step out of their bodies into the night,
to raise their arms and welcome the darkness,

palming the blank spaces, touching everything.
always they return home safely, like blind men
who know it is morning by feeling shadows.

and always they wake up as themselves again.
that’s why i want to say something astonishing
like: our hearts are leaving our bodies.

our hearts are thirsty black handkerchiefs
flying through the trees at night, soaking up
the darkest beams of moonlight, the music

of owls, the motion of wind-torn branches.
and now our hearts are thick black fists
flying back to the glove of our chests.

we have to learn to trust our hearts like that.
we have to learn the desperate faith of sleep-
walkers who rise our of their calm beds

and walk through the skin of another life.
we have to drink the stupefying cup of darkness
and wake up to ourselves, nourished and surprised.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s