'Insomnia' Poem by Maureen Carey

The entire world is cloaked in a dark and mysterious beauty
Night has spread her star-studded blanket.
I can not find any logical reason to sleep.
My heart is too full, too restless to be still.
Thoughts and ideas swirl passionately and madly
In my imagination like a stormy tempest.

Passion for poetry and the written word consumes me
Grabbing me, shaking me to the very core,
To the essence of my being.
Each word I write is a way of
Knowing myself again
Of coming to deep realizations of
Who I am away from scrutiny and judgment.

In the dead of the night, when the rest of the world
Has long retired, poetry has a firm grip on me
Refusing to let me go, as she holds me prisoner,
A slave to her incessant demands.
We wrestle far into the night, as I fight sleep
while she insists I stay up and write.

She has the final say, emerging victorious,
As I write deep and long into the darkness,
Following endless trails of words and thoughts and ideas.

Sleep evades me as I stay up with my true passion, my true love.
Let the rest of the world sleep.
Now is the time for the deep thinkers, the dreamers, the passionate ones.
In dreaming, I am fully awake.