Sleepwalking, Sleepwaking by Dean Solon

lou reed:  "i could sleep for a thousand years.""

in the late afternoon, shortly before sunset, i fall asleep on the sitting room sofa, about as deeply asleep as i can be.  perhaps a near-death experience, a deep and utter silence of something resembling nothing.
i may have slept for a thousand years.
who am i, now?

sitting...am i a sleepwalker?
                 yes, sometimes i am a sleepwalker.
asleep, how lightly we sleep.
awake, how deeply we sleep.

sitting...with foresight
                AND memory
                (with premonition and remembrance).
you recognized me,
and now you have forgotten who i am.
asleep, how lightly you sleep.
awake, how deeply you sleep.

of course, each of us a master
as much as a student.
sleepwalking, sleepwaking.
it is time to be here, now.

sitting...
am resting on the shoreline,
feet curling on the sand,
a space between thoughts deconstructing,
the stories i have wrestled with decomposing,
inclinations to drama dissipating
under the big sky,
the rarified air i am breathing
the air always i am breathing.
all the commotion and all the confusion
a divine comedy
tearing our hearts out...
this life
one ceaseless wake up call,
an air raid siren shattering the ears,
a breath and a breath
and another breath
shattering the heart.
you are the ten thousand shattered fragments,
you are the prophet walking in this world.

the world does not conform to our wishes.
we are the clay.

matt haig:  "if you came to earth looking for logical sense, you were missing the point."