Deep Sleep

Although I don’t need that much sleep,
I’m sated by that measure
And bring back from the depthless deep
A chest of ancient treasure.

My body isn’t made of clay
But infinite awareness,
And, though I never went away.
I’m conscious of my thereness.

And, though it’s only 3 am,
I reach for pen and paper,
And, working on an uncut gem,
I strive to be its shaper.

I wouldn’t have this much esprit
If deep sleep didn’t quicken me.

Photo by Rodrigo Pereira on Unsplash

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