The Seeds of Dreams

The peace of midnight,
All is still,
Except the mind,
Churning of its own will,
A silence broken
By creeping thoughts.
Bereft of dreams
Small comforts sought.
Words spring unbidden
Upon this page,
Seeking freedom
From a sleepless cage.

Can silence be broken
By electrical currents
Surging relentlessly
Through synapses burnt?

The endless jolts
Disrupting all rest
A stirring of limbs
To rise from my nest.

So I wander the night,
Or at least my thoughts do,
Escaping the quiet
For a moment or two.

Yet sleep is elusive,
The wiliest beast,
Hunting is useless,
It must come in peace.

So I sit in the darkness,
The stillness,
The calm,
Repairing that silence,
I still the alarms,
Cultivating tranquility,
In orderly rows,
Ploughed fields of disquiet
Ready to sow
The seeds of dreams planted
In my mental farm,

The burbling chatter of thoughts
Disarmed.