Sleep

This epidemic,
this wandering sleepless
from day to day like robots
animated by abandoned souls,
is not what the Creator meant for us.

Soon the birds,
who are angels
disguised as creatures
made by God,
will fly to each nightless window
and make a nest for all the suffering.

There is hope in this fantasy
where the secluded prairies of our exhausted selves
will come to rest in the love of something bigger
than the screens of fear that pull us away
from communion that happens
when we close our eyes
and pray for the wonderland
of sleep,
erase the boards of our minds
and start out new
in the morn.