Toronto, Ontario
Dark Moments
I am writing to contend with a sleepless night,
A pain more bothersome than a deep, sharp bite.
And I know there are supposed to be remedies out there,
Been tried again and again I may silently declare.
Everyone will want to be a doctor right now,
Sound advice tends to benefit little and not endow.
To count sheep, or chant mantras, is the likely technique,
I think prayers from others would be really unique.
I was driven today to Cherry Beach for a swim,
To relax nerves and bring some calm within.
We read of Krishna as son and a conjugal lover.
He relishes servitude and even acts as a brother.
We ate potatoes with a real scrumptious sauce,
You know, among veggies, they’re the real boss.
And our staircase kirtan was to warm the soul,
After a fresh rain shower I felt clean and whole.
The night walk, however, did not contribute to the slumber,
For after, time dragged, as I watched each clock’s number.
I have come to accept this malady as an ongoing curse,
I am relieved, somewhat, that Dickens had it worse.
He sauntered the streets of London at evening,
But shaped his books characters; had their beginning.
Perhaps then I’ll resort to artistic expression,
At those wee hours, which usually causes depression.
If I give up hope I’ll enter a dark tunnel,
Like walking, I’m tested, avoid the puddle, don’t stumble.
May the Source be with you!
5 km
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