Of Sleep And the Lack Thereof

Sleep, the beautiful gift of God,

Is dearer to man than riches.

In the list of mankind's needs

Sleep is fourth, trumped only by air, food and drink.

In beauteous nighttime sleep brings forth dreams

Dreams both fell and fair,

Dreams of love, home and bliss

And dreams of death, wars and demons.

But to some the nighttime is more beauteous than sleep itself.

And the stars fairer than the fairest dreams.

To me the moon seems sweeter than sweet dreams

The depths of the shortened moonshadows darker than dreamless sleep

By starlight the hills seem to teem with trolls

And the mountains to take on an aspect more grim than the dreadest nightmare.

The beauty of a wakeful night far surpasses any beauty that might be found in sleep

And the horror of the clouded sky is more horrible than the most fearsome dream.

And so I sit awake at night with my Muse, bitter Lady Caffeine, beside me.

And as my body turns to thoughts of sleep

And as my mind prepares for her night's rest and dreams

I sit yet awake.

My eyelids droop and my sight blurs

My hands go numb and my thinking mind starts to sleep

But I sip of my Muse and refrain from sleep.

Time passes strangely, it creeps along as if a minute is longer than an hour

And the next instant an hour has passed.

My brain is asleep, the sciences seem as naught

Then the arts awake,

My Muse is at work.

Sweet Caffeine speeds my sleeping mind and shakes my waking body

The mind that should be dreaming dreams in waking

And art flows forth from the scientist's brain.