The body in the invisible
Familiar room accepts the gift
Of sleep, and for a while is still;
Instead of will, it lives by drift
In the great night that gathers up
The earth and sky. Slackened, unbent,
Unwanting, without fear or hope,
The body rests beyond intent.
Sleep is the prayer the body prays,
Breathing in unthought faith the Breath
That through our worry-wearied days
Preserves our rest, and is our truth.
Oh sleep! It is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
-from “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
(thanks for the reminder, Michal Ann :])
‘I will lie down and sleep in peace, for You alone, LORD, make me dwell in safety’
It is vain for you to rise up early,
To sit up late,
To eat the bread of sorrows;
For so He gives His beloved sleep.
-from The Psalms
Sleep well, friends.