Poem 0176: middle of the night

Awakened in the middle of the night
By that call that I knew could come
And which I hoped would not

I am stretched beyond my best self.
This awakening has drawn me into
The wired state of mind where

Everything and nothing are important
And not important. Where the knowing
That I should go back to sleep does not

Override the strange, inexplicable desire
To stay awake. The results are odd and
Colored by blurred vision — eyes too tired

To care enough to focus. Instead, the
Outcome is a random bit of poetry
(You know — you’re reading it now)
And a mid-night raid on the snack cabinet.

The middle of the night call is anything but
A wake-up call. If anything, it is the go back
To sleep call. And then, my meandering thoughts

Begin to beacon me to pursuits of consciousness-
Raising and deep pondering. It is then that the
Quiet breathing of our house calls me back to

Sleep.