What Is It That Keeps You Awake In the Silence?

What is it that steals your peace in the deepest dark of night? What is it that leaves you there staring at the ceiling fan, a skein of snakes in your heart and mind? Is it all that is leaving you, that you want to hang onto, to hold like a dragon sitting on gold in his stony lair? Is it the weakness taking over, the one you know when you climb stairs or lift a board that you wish you could nail in place? Is it the loss of balance? Now, you catch yourself, or even fall when caught by surprise. Is it the word that you can't quite recall, the one that is perfect for what you want to say right now? Is it all that you will never achieve because the means have left you? Is it your aching gratitude for all you have been given? Or is it everything -- the dark nights, the days brimming with joy, the peace of rolling, the taste of raspberries, of salt, drops running down a frosted tumbler of dark beer, the tears of rage at the unfairness? All of it is what you must surrender as the light of you grows dim. Is that it?