The Night's Awake
The nights awake, so I awake...
While slumber folds the mortal throng;
The heavens hush, as if to make
A cradle for the world’s soft song.
No whisper through the branches weaves,
No murmur haunts the dreaming deep;
Even the stars, like solemn thieves,
Steal silently across their keep.
The moon, pale mistress of the gloom,
Unpins her veil of tender light,
And drapes it o’er the earth’s dark tomb,
To sanctify the peace of night.
She moves with slow, unspoken grace,
A ghostly queen in silver crown,
And leaves upon the void’s vast face
A trace of calm where suns burn down.
My thoughts, once tempest-tossed and wild,
Grow still beneath her spectral reign;
Each restless hope, each grief exiled,
Lies sleeping deep within my brain.
No echo of the world remains...
No clang of life, no pulse of need;
The silence sings through empty veins,
And thought itself forgets to bleed.
How soft the dark, how pure, how wide...
Its emptiness a kind caress;
It strips the heart of foolish pride,
And crowns the mind with nothingness.
Here peace is not of mortal kind,
But born of distance, cold, and deep;
Where I, unbodied, half unmind,
Am both awake and half asleep.
The nights awake, so I endure,
A watcher bound by tranquil chains;
No pain too sharp, no joy too pure...
Just stillness flowing through my veins.
And in that stillness, faint and far,
The soul forgets the wounds of day;
Till dawn, reluctant, stirs the scar,
And bids the dream dissolve away.
Then light shall fall, and life shall break,
And voices rise from earthly deep;
But while the night's awake...I awake,
To learn the peace the heavens keep.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
