In the night I wake up 'cos
the moon's shining on my face
I see it with closed eyes
as it glides along with grace.

I move my head to dodge the glare
and try once more to fall asleep
but now I toss and turn
counting far too many sheep.

At last I drift off into slumberland
the big yellow globe has passed
over to the other window
through which it hits me in full blast.

Now I'm beside myself with rage
even feel the urge to curse
then finally it comforts me
this moon has no reverse.

'Sleep softly' he said
As I rest my body
Lieing on My hospital bed

'Sleep softly my dear'
As my eyes grow heavy
Drifting to slumberland

'Sleep softly my child'
As I close my eyes
And the lights slowly fade

'Arise' he said
I open my eyes
Revealing a whole new world

'Arise my dear'
As I rise to my feet
Seeing the bliss around me

'You're here my child'
I knew not where
I looked to him in wonder

'You're in heaven now
Where angels sing
You've made it'

Your time has passed
Now rest some more
You'll be happy here

When I struggle
To stand up straight
After getting out of bed
In the morning,
When I keep dropping
Everything my fingers
Curl around yet can't seem
To keep a firm grip on,
When my eye twitches
Uncontrollably throughout the day
And especially at night
While I'm watching TV,
When I lay my head down
Finally at the end of another long day
And hope to slip away
To Slumberland unimpeded,
When I **** awake at 4 a.m.
With sweat crawling down my back
And the scent of fear in my nostrils
All because of memories,
I think to myself,
"I am sick and tired of drama.
I am sick and tired of being depressed."

Familiar enough, they live in the same flat
Sleeping on the other side of paper walls
Phone calls muffled.  Or clear as day
When nighttime drama has been peaked

Passing when scurrying
Off to work, out for a walk
Gone to the beach for a breather.
They politely nod with pleasantries and smiles

              The flat is surrounded
              By invisible but ever-present
              Life forms
              Who arrived recently

The three sages, the visitor, the novice
In the novitiate all strangers
We try hard.  To be civil, kind, pleasant
We would do well to have a warm relationship

Sitting at breakfast on Tuesday morning
Master encounters the viejo leaving
“oh, hi”
Frequently those would be
The only two syllables to pass
Each of their lips

               “We are here to guide, protect and educate”.
               The disembodied women and children
               Steeped in ages of tradition
               Have found their way here.  Or were they summoned?

Rising slowly the Master stops the flow
And cuts into recognized routine
“I have something for you,
I made it last night.”

That evening, Tuesday, another chance encounter
The docent, el viejo and the Master
Chat comfortably, alone, without the others
A quiet and peaceful cabal

               The building was a shop
               Or perhaps, a parts supply warehouse Which
               Upon installation of sacred statues
               Became a sanctuary.  With a loft

Do you practice in a particular way?
Are you comfortable in the expectations
When your inevitable death arrives
Are your wills stout and resolute?

You have heard of Kabbalah, of course
The concepts strange to me
Numerology
I’ll stick to what I know, goodnight.

               Let them go to slumberland
               Attend the special space
               Where they can see
               A Pure Land