Calm

Calm

Sleep is elusive.

Swimming in front of my eyes

Just out of reach.

My eyes close, and open, and close again

Slow and belabored.

Then,

the music drops from the sky,

and

pulls sleep closer and closer.

Like a symphony,

all the tiny instruments fall on rooftops and windows,

recreate my mother’s lilt, and her mother’s too

it splashes unawareness

with drowsiness, with resolved unaction

with the feeling of weightlessness.

Slowly,

as the music

carries me to dreams.

I dream of oceans and pastures,

where the cows graze,

and the instruments,

sit quietly on the stalks of grass.

Their melody is gone,

but their memory remains.

Eytan