Monday, July 7, 2014


Quarter over, graduation celebrated;
On verge of three short journeys;
Upcoming six-month sabbatical;
Two days ill, long sleeps, but not
Quite enough as yet and for now.

Shakespeare's apt description:
MACBETH, Act 2, Scene 2, Page 3:
"Sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care,
The death of each day’s life, sore labor’s bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course,
Chief nourisher in life’s feast."

More Shakespeare, Hamlet, act 3, Scene i, Pages 65-68:
"To sleep, perchance to dream--ay, there's the rub."
'Tho not sharing Hamlet's deep despair and fear of dreams,
Yearn for long, reparative sleep and illustrative dreams to
Knit and clarify, to soothe and reassure, to calm and heal.

Do not read despair or retreat 'tween lines,
Merely surprising, overwhelming fatigue that 
Arrives at completion of arduous push, when body
And mind at last relax and momentarily collapse.

Oh! For summer-afternoon nap in hammock at lake's edge;
Soft breezes ruffling hair, birds sweetly tweeting;
Animal-shaped clouds wafting ever eastward;
Breathing deepening and slowing;
Sentences simply shortening;
Sleeping and dreaming.

Ann Beth Blake
(c) July 7, 2014

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