INSOMNIAT
urn off your late-night, doomsayer prophetand writhe on spikes of restless conjecture,
as if prowling for food or using echolocation,
your night-sights operating in dark habitats.
Twist and turn through disparate tunnels
searching lower levels for the astral garage.
Nurse back to health the insomniac cinema
that you once held secret outside the walls
before the city gates closed, when the canopy
of ions glowed brighter than all starlight.
Free the wheel of waking hours operating at night
that imprisons your needs from other people.
Join the crusade in your sleepless reverie
even as the black-crowned heron dives
and the night goddess plumbs fertile waters
for a drowned angel or a handful of shooting stars.
Tease awake the soft nocturnal speaker,
one who walks barefoot with cobras
down the path of strange flowers, improvising,
noting where the desert has changed her sandals.
Tread the perilous catwalks and footings
of a blue glorious underground sensitive to sun.
Bubble up as dreamless as a platypus,
one ghost short of a night outdoors alone.
Strike and capture amid damp and cold
the lizard's frail song among the rocks,
the Morrigan murmur of rain shadow
or the zebra that brays in the rainbow.
Reach for words that swell beyond their sense,
the magic scroll that pleases the palette.
Decipher the static of God's laughter,
His invisible hand on the snooze-button setting.
ŠJimmy Warner Design, 2010
