To wake up, and to be – being wide awake –
a first sun pouring light across the lake,
a light for seeing through, not analysing;
night, past and gone, a drowned wreck fast capsizing
gives way, itself away, all compromising,
and brittle vials of dark expand and break.
But I dream of a being that can’t sleep
whose constant state is steadily aware
of all that is, and can be, anywhere.
Insomniac presence, missing you, I weep
denied in thought-knots as I watch and keep
calling for you darling, who are not there.
Across the lake a hinted half-traced face appears –
sudden in dark or light – from the last wave
of grief that beat and carved onto this grave
some message that might mock oncoming years,
or find the acceptance that may finally rest in peace.