By Shem Onderi
How long—long for who?
Why the long night, for anyone to say so?
Who can count the length of the night?
For some, how can a night be that long?
While for others, it is short—just sleep and wake to morning.
When is the night long?
What makes it so—perhaps the dreams,
The darkness, or the depth of sleep?
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Maybe a hungry stomach,
Empty bowels leaving the body uneasy—
Then the night stretches into ages.
Or a full stomach, where even sleep loses order.
The length of the night is not in hours or minutes,
But in the turmoil within sleep.
A long night is one that never ends,
With so much to tell.
All night long, the tragedies of the mind rise—
Missed chances, empty pockets in hanging linen,
Sleep that never comes, though it is time for it.
Awake all night—
A long night.
