I try to sleep but my thoughts run awry
and my heart is restless in a songless cry.
I write to you but the ink runs out
even as words fail to form in this songless bout.
I wish I could tell you, I really do try
but no words in this language seem to signify
how the dark of the night swallows me in
and sets me free from the deepest within.
I remember the days I spent on the floor,
lost in her stories and lost to the lore
of tigers and Tarzans- free-spirited, wild-
like I wish I could be behind this plied smile.
Of course I am guilty of living in the past
where I lay on my mother’s lap, but dreams don’t last
for as long as we’d like them to; indulgence is a sin.
Yet, take me back to my mother’s lap where my world would begin.
For it gives my songless heart a melody to hum
as the world opens and shuts to the beat of a drum
that I can’t dance to, and playing catch up
wasn’t in the plan, really; not my tea, not my cup.
Unusual as it is, life carries on
from melody to melody, an elaborate singsong.
My feet will always dance, I’ll sing to my heart’s content
I’ll try to run the race until I am spent
Until my heart wants to stop,
until it bursts in my chest,
until it leads me to my mother’s lap
until I can rest.