Insomnia took root in the fragments of the night
that buzzed through my mind like an earthquake
swaying my base and screeching for attention.
It’s a monster.
The persistent ogre waits to spring,
even as I hide under cover
beneath the canopy of stars stretched
too tightly this cool evening.
Of course love is fearless, steadfast as it sustains us.
Those stems that sprout where we sow seeds
have the power to overwhelm weeds that found root
and together we drown out the din entirely.
I sleep soundly at last.
© 2021 | Phillip Knight Scott
Prompts
Often Mumbled Musings 
Reblogged this on About the Jez of It.
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Powerful and brilliant!
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Thanks so much 🙂
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You are welcome. 🙂
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Beautiful! I read through this several times. ❤
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Thanks so much 🙂 Glad you enjoyed it!
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Nothing is sweeter than good sleep, after a period of insomnia.
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Yes Phillip, you paint the essence of the struggle here very simply – which gives your piece its resonance… Good stuff….
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This is beautifully composed! I love; “Those stems that sprout where we sow seeds have the power to overwhelm weeds that found root and together we drown out the din entirely.”💝💝
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Oh, I know that monster. I lay still and don’t move. It is like the thought weeds take over.
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Sllep, Schmeep, I say. This insomniac hereby declares sleep irrelevant. Nice poem, though.
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I agree, insomnia is a monster, and you are exactly right, it stems from fears which can be weeded out with love!
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Powerful, you described that struggle so well.
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It sure is a monster! Love how you ended it.
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When sleep finally comes it’s so sweet.
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So true!
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