809 and 810

I am soooo very tired.. Very so..

if I don’t learn how to get some sleep soon

my mind will be its own many-faced foe,

as all its bindings sweat away and swoon.

But I can’t tell it what to do—I am

no master of my master. If it thinks,

I thinks, and hours pile on the dam

of respite, spilling over all its brinks.

It wakes only a few hours after rest,

and tells me to get up or else go mad;

and I can’t argue with its wishes, lest

I drain its hopes and force it to be sad.

So hide from sadness! Wake, and go insane,

pace through the night, and, optimism, feign.

~~~

We lay upon a garden of pillows,

surrounded by an angel on each side,

who tells his passers-by, “hush, dear fellows:

there are two here who quietly abide.

Theirs was a burden that they held alone,

or as alone as anyone can claim.

And now our Master has given them home

together, in this lush and meadowed plain.”

And you, who held alone your mortal life

are held by me, and hold me just the same,

while many hundred years forget the strife

that we, apart, should not have had to tame.

Until the aches that anchor in us deep

are kissed a thousand times while we both sleep.