I have stretches of time when it appears that I forget how to sleep, and it appears that I am in the middle of one of these at the moment. I get up and read. And last night, I was revisiting poems that I never remember not knowing.
This one seems appropriate… The last verse in particular; it’s not just that I cannot get there by day – I can’t get there at all!!
The Land of Nod
Robert Louis Stevenson
From breakfast on through all the day
At home among my friends I stay,
But every night I go abroad
Afar into the land of Nod.
All by myself I have to go,
With none to tell me what to do–
All alone beside the streams
And up the mountain-sides of dreams.
The strangest things are these for me,
Both things to eat and things to see,
And many frightening sights abroad
Till morning in the land of Nod.
Try as I like to find the way,
I never can get back by day,
Nor can remember plain and clear
The curious music that I hear.