Slowly Flooding, Slowly Ebbing
©July 22nd, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
It spreads slowly
This relaxing of a stiffening.
The body gives way to
Strange griefs of its own,
Unknown to the mind.
Toes and fingers,
And spine and elbows,
And neck and knees
And hips and hands
And feet beneath
All succumb.
A mysterious call
From within, from without
– Heavy, leaden, attractive –
Casts a spell on them.
There’s an ache that
Defies knowing, but Hypnos
Winds his arms around them,
Around me, forgiving all,
Making me prone, supine,
Swooning with slumber.
Take me away, O God of Sleep!
Waft me slowly, slowly away
On your bier so your brother
May see me, and nod and say,
“It’s not time, yet.”
I won’t mind his rejection,
For I seek only you,
O Beautiful Hypnos,
To dally with you,
And speak with your children,
The Oneiroi, with winged
Morpheus in his cave
Strewn with poppy seeds
And quiet Lethe flowing close by,
Flooding my senses and my soul.
Only, allow me to return
At a time of my choosing.
For, alluring though you are,
One has to fight the spell,
Any spell; it’s the only way.
So, let not Thanatos take me,
Though he, too, allures.
And slowly, slowly, bear me back
To the land of the Awake,
Bear me back to my bed,
Slowly, quietly, on tiptoe,
Then leave without farewell.
And though it’ll hurt my heart,
It’s the only way, as I
Come slowly back to life,
To the world of those
Who wake, and ache with the
Joy and the grief of those
Who live and love, in spite
Of life slowly ebbing away.
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