Advent 6: Sleep

Advent Poem-a-Day

Although NovPAD 2024 has been tucked in for a long winter’s rest, poetry never sleeps! I’ve taken up the next challenge, which is Advent Poem-a-Day (or AdventPAD). As you can see from the date of this post, it’s been a slow start, and that’s okay with me. I’ll write and post when possible, but given the busy season, I’m not going to stress if I miss a day or two (or five). Following is a rambling poem inspired by “sleep” - the prompt for Day 6.

The Sleep Whisperer

“You’re so calm,” they tell me. 
One guy even said, “If you were 
any calmer, you’d be dead.” 
They can’t hear the ruckus 
in my head, the clamor of the 
nearly there, the far-off foghorn 
of a phantom muse whose visits 
rarely coincide with my availability, 
the constant chatter of grocery lists 
and graveyard shifts. If only they 
could see the unknown faces that 
appear as my eyes close and I near 
that land beyond the veil of 
consciousness, sweet keeper
of dreams – those strangers who
guard the door to sleep, with 
their accusing eyes and pouting 
lips and a wildness I could never
acknowledge – until I slip
their snares with backwards
breaths and count my way
to blessed darkness. Yes,
if they insist, I am as calm 
as secret words whispered 
into a fitful night to magic
the moon to sleep.