Apologies for the posting time of this one – it should only be read in the deep depths of night, when the house has gone quiet, when the family has gone to bed, and you sit alone, unable to sleep – maybe because it’s Saturday, maybe because there is something lodged in your mind, or maybe because you are simply too tired to sleep. That happens sometimes. You can push through the tired period when sleep would come easily if you just let it, but you don’t, thinking you might miss something, or pushing ahead to get one more thing done before the day ends. And then it’s too late – you’re up, you’re wired, and you cannot sleep no matter how tired you are. Tricky thing, the arrival and all-too-quick departure of your sleep window. These days I try to catch it by inviting it, welcoming it, and making the conditions hospitable to it. Such as with a song like this – a song that should only be heard late at night. Come revisit this post then.
The steam of china tea
You could hear the woman sing
In the soft flames of spring
Spring has swept the scarlet side streets
Winds caress, undress, invite
Upstairs by a china lamp
They softly talk in the cool spring night
