The Land of Nod

Savage rain through the night
       lashing the windows
punishing the land
       seeping into the murky fabric
of my unconscious – the land of nod
       that other country
where the brain toils overtime
       labours double-time
Brave Hector is in the dust
       Helen too my friends
and the walls of my Troy
       are endlessly burning

We all live double lives
       and each feeds off the other
back and forth we travel
       day and night
Forsaken mariners
       we plough an empty ocean
and hanker for guiding stars
        and for a glimpse of El Dorado

Blind ambition :
       when I grow up
I want to be me
       or perhaps more simply
I want to be

Wind through the hedges
       the garden a war zone
plants and pots topsy-turvy
       but the nests barely disturbed
: come spring there will be eggs
       a beautiful egg-shell blue
I’ve seen them hatch
       before my eyes
bright beaks eager to guzzle down
       what they can get of life
dejection unknown
       certainly no lethargy
build their strength
       and take to the wing

But for us an eternity
       and the marriage
between heaven and hell
       hands on the plough
but hands that go down
        with the dust
Sparrows that envy
       the butterfly

John Lyons