I Shall Not Sleep Instead

The night is young in the heart of an unlearned fool

But it is well along in ticks and tocks to the wise man

And I cannot discern which I might be, fool or wise

For I know it is not quite so young, and yet there is no moment to spare

So my eyes pry themselves very much awake

At the rap of the breeze against my window pane

The breeze that eats surreptitiously

Without a crisp or crunch, it eats the leaves

As they disappear in an autumn decay

Disguised and displayed as nostalgia to some

And new memories wrought to all the young

But they have no thought for the ageless oak

Who adds another ring and will upward grow

Yet is well aware of the leaf that’s plucked

And falls to where it shall remain under the snow

If an oak could mourn all its loss

It may forever shed its tears

Even willows under whimsy-moss

Feel in their boughs the distressing drear

Life will come and life will go

Autumn ebb and springtime flow

How young is the night, I might never know

Unless I see the seasons to and fro

Dance across the sky

One star at a time

In one young night

Followed by another and another

Uninterrupted by death

Or a senseless adage of “early to rise, early to bed”

So I shall not sleep instead