The Mysterious World of Sleep

Why is it so complicated?


It’s Cupid himself

In spite of himself

Dispatched from a world of gods

To a mortal world of night

He entices sleep with yearning

It’s Psyche herself

Unable to see herself

Beguiled by a world of rest

From a mortal world of chaos

She beckons sleep with returning

It’s Persephone herself

Unknown to herself

Stolen from a cosmos in sunlight

To an underworld laden with death

She runs from sleep with trembling

It’s Hades himself

For the sake of himself

To rule the underworld of demons

Removed from the celestial cosmos

He terrorizes sleep with remembering

Our minds beg

please rest

Old fears

Seek redress

Lost passions

Crave and obsess

New problems

Nag, nevertheless

For the fiction in our mind

For the dramas we scheme

To feel what we cannot

But in the world of a dream

We may hide from sleep

But our bodies…

They know…

A mind in distress

And a body speaks its mind.

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People look for retreats for themselves, in the country, by the coast, or in the hills . . . There is nowhere that a person can find a more peaceful and trouble-free retreat than in his own mind. . . . So constantly give yourself this retreat, and renew yourself.


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