I cannot sleep

while parts of me are gone,

disappearing until extinguished.

 

Frogs and night birds,

bats and insects

cry out for company

filling raucous gently luscious breeze

caressing caring songs

of love not yet won,

justice want and passioned need

with primed longing

to belong back together

our first time night flight

revolves resolved chatter,

holonic spinning echoes,

iconic timeless teachings

from potential future memory

predicating facts,

factual predictors,

confluent islands of sanity

surround inspiring crazy mess.

 

How do I sleep

in our racket of other absent

missing hope of flight tonight,

stuck in nightmare

times too fast,

stuck too slow,

unable to force any faster pace

or slower race

but both together

falling leap reopens terrified

reassuring mindfulness,

in sleep you can’t be there

while here as We.

 

Why do I sleep

while partial We longs here?