When the night is there, but you will not sleep,
And there is no point of counting sheep,
The brain spins tales, with no woolen ends,
And the thoughts are strange with twists and bends.
The heart delights in a journey told,
Of memories and stories of old,
Of the clarity of a challenged mind,
The Duality intertwined.
Fight not, the nights of little rest,
Use them for the Eternal’s best
Interest and your own as well,
Because each of us has tales to tell.
Pick up the project, journal, or art,
Let the progress come from your heart,
You are chosen to do take this flight,
No better time than the dark of night.
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Author: Michele Plumb Stowell
Michele Stowell was a teacher, a hand holder, and encouraging voice. Born an early Gen Xer, she has lived in Western Washington for the duration. Her children, two spectacular genetic daughters and an uncountable number of marvelous scout and school sons and daughters, shine as her biggest impact and her greatest blessing. Just before her 54th birthday, Michele was diagnosed with stage four cancer. Her writing and art work are expressions of the drama and the joy of living earth bound. On October 24, 2021, Michele was released from her physical body, transported to continue her work on other realms.
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micheleplumbstowell.org 