An Ode to Sleep

That elusive, eternal sleep,
Refreshing the mind 
And comforting as if,
One has reached atop 
A mountain, high and steep.
Or, has 
Touched the floor 
Of an ocean, blue and deep.
These highs and lows 
So unlike, the ones
You'll get with a wine cheap.
Ah! If only I could get,
That eternally elusive sleep.

Oh! that profound, ultimate sleep,
Flanked by the cohorts
Of those vivid, 
Yet vague, dreams.
And the secrets they must keep
Inside their formless lucid molds;
Not unlike the reasons, 
Provoking a long heartful weep.
Or the more subtle ones 
That lurk behind, when a child 
Decides to give up on his creep.
Ah! If only I could get,
That ultimately profound sleep.

What I get is an unyielding, tiring sleep,
As if, I've been running 
Along with time, looking
for some gains, to harvest, 
And maybe some favors to reap.
Or, maybe by chance
To stumble upon,
A long forgotten treasure heap.
But always this ends
With me losing my wool,
To be in winter, just a bare naked sheep.
Ah! If only I could get,
A relaxing and yielding sleep.

And I've heard of one, beyond these sleeps,
One that everyone ultimately gets,
But no one really wants to.
One, whose time is unfixed;
Slowly, like water, in your room which seeps,
But sometimes which is swift enough
Like a broom, your ties and life
In just one stroke which sweeps.
Not to lose heart, the wise men say, 
For its but another beginning, 
And to some onward journey your soul leaps.
So expect it or not, but one day,
Everyone shall have, this secretive greater sleep.