For Sleep

THERE is no way with sleep but to die each night —
Drop like a drowning swimmer in the flow
Of heavy waters crushing out the light,
Closing above a last thin watery glow.
Unfearing and unhoping, you must ride
The lonely current of a nameless stream
That bears you onward toward its ocean’s tide
With weight of waters heavier than dream;
And down beyond the world at last you will sink
Deeper than time, and where all time is vain;
And in the abode of sleep, as beyond the brink
Of death, give up the body and the brain;
Knowing you cannot wake, nor any sound
Trouble your silence like a distant bell;
Knowing that nothingness will close you round,
And in its still embrace you will fare well.
BERNICE KENYON