The Deserts of Sleep

Carl John Bostelmann

I went into the deserts of dim sleep—
That world which, like an unknown wilderness,
Bounds this with its recesses wide and deep—
And there I lay awhile in loneliness
To count the eons of infinity
In their significant but empty sums;
As shepherds, delving an uncovered sky,
Devise attainment of millenniums.

And as I lay, around me gathered slow
Successions and insistences of sweet
And unremitting silence. Then below
My bed of sand, upon its cushioned feet,
The problem of the present day came creeping,
A chanticleer to terminate my sleeping.