Sleep
I’ve traveled long to this lone farm, on the Irish soil
On this darkened earth, far away
I begin to count the sheep
My hopes are high, and lessened is the turmoil of living
These fair creatures are all that exist to me
I remain counting
The brisk air lightens my head, my arms are still heavy, my eyes as if lead
The grass is softer, the wind is richer, the stars are thicker.
The more sheep I lost, the more sheep I found, for the first time in many
I lie down
I wake up
The farm is gone, the stars have vanished,
The noise is deafening, the planet is ravaged
I close my eyes to continue my journey, the farm it beckons.
The sheep! I must hurry.
I remain counting