This is a different kind of sleep
Where the eyes are shut in prayer
Like those of the ancestors
Standing with tears before the family deity
Day after day, year after year
Begging for a day without indignities
And a night without a nightmare
Yet waking with a start and sitting out
Looking blankly at the treetops
Dancing in the darkness
And praying for a night
When the heart is so happy
That one doesn't want to sleep.
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nothing but poetry
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