Sleeping Gypsy, Henri Rousseau
Troubled Sleepers
Dreams
are the country of those who are lost,
For
travelers who can’t find their way;
For
voyagers, anxious and tempest-tossed,
On uncharted
seas of billows and spray;
For
pilgrims sailing for the wrong shore,
Beleaguered
believers at a false shrine;
For a
sailor taken up with a whore,
Or a peddler
at the end of his line;
For a lost
child crying in a crowd,
Or a precious
pet who has gone astray;
For the
sun all winter behind a cloud,
Or Bernhardt
alone in a shallow play.
Blessed
are troubled sleepers who, waking, find
A loved
one next to them and peace of mind.
Robert Forrey,
2011
