Sweet siesta

A FLOCK of sheep that leisurely pass by,
One after one; the sound of rain, and bees
Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas,
Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky;

I have thought of all by turns, and yet do lie
Sleepless! and soon the small birds' melodies
Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees;
And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry.
Even thus last night, and two nights more, I lay,
And could not win thee, Sleep! by any stealth:

So do not let me wear to-night away:
Without Thee what is all the morning's wealth?
Come, blessed barrier between day and day,
Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!

~William Wordsworth, "To Sleep"



The complexity of the human mind increases with time and very soon the fragrance (sleep) that relieves the soul off its stenches of pain is lost. I crave to be able to tame this wild black horse (my mind) and be engulfed in siesta, in its sweetness ‘n silence…forever!

~Xena’s blabber on sweet siesta ;)



Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care
The death of each day's life,
sore labour's bathBalm of hurt minds,
great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast.

~William Shakespeare, Macbeth