283–This is the Night of my Discontent

i never name a poem before it’s written
but this one claimed its title so i write
an ode to this night how i crawl from
sleep awakened for the hundredth time
by yelling wanderers, loud engines
sirens and a housemate arriving
home a little drunk past midnight
i try hard then to nestle into your
arms and in the almost dark hear
your voice sometimes it is futile
though i sit waiting or lie impatient
possessed by the desire to sleep
still there is some sound that
comforts me as dark as this dis-
content may fall alone in the
night how could i fear any evil
what a concept thinking that
anything is not You i free fall
until i land again in the place
of peace no war where everyone
is The Beloved, I will not harm
I will embrace you Lover of
My Soul

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