Sleep (2)

It isn’t that I’m sleeping more
Than in my restless youth
When I considered sleep a bore
And out of line with truth.

I still awake at three o’clock
Or, sometimes, even two
And board the first ship leaving dock
And sail the pre-dawn through.

But now I’m glad when I can sleep
And know that, at its core,
There lies a valley that’s so deep
That no one’s seen its floor.

Yet that’s the place where truth resides;
What else could join the valleysides?

Photo by Peter Secan on Unsplash

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