Dear Morpheus, The Glue That Is You
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Anyone who has ever woken at 3 a.m. unable to turn off the brain knows the value of that precious elixir we call sleep. Dear Morpheus, The Glue That Is You explores the realms of sleep, sleeplessness, and dreams. There are poems addressed to Morpheus, looking for answers from the Greek god of dreams. There are also memories that keep the seeker of sleep from finding rest, yet how can these memories ever be released? And there are dream poems, portals to the world where Morpheus, in many forms and disguises, dwells. It's here, in dreams, that we seem closest to the mysteries of Morpheus and tha...
Anyone who has ever woken at 3 a.m. unable to turn off the brain knows the value of that precious elixir we call sleep. Dear Morpheus, The Glue That Is You explores the realms of sleep, sleeplessness, and dreams. There are poems addressed to Morpheus, looking for answers from the Greek god of dreams. There are also memories that keep the seeker of sleep from finding rest, yet how can these memories ever be released? And there are dream poems, portals to the world where Morpheus, in many forms and disguises, dwells. It's here, in dreams, that we seem closest to the mysteries of Morpheus and that "glue" of sleep that restores and heals. The book opens and closes with an invocation to "the balm of sleep," useful for those 3 a.m. islands of insomnia. SAMPLE: Dear Morpheus, Long ago my mother got stardust in her eye; my father removed it with tweezers. I was burgled, I was bungled, I was born. How can I know what to say when you've written my lines in lime juice and stardust on the bleached sheet? Let's just admit it-we're all guilty in our every portal of clandestine stardust-related program activities. What was it my grandmother said to make me slap her by accident? Dust to galactic dust. Milky ash to spiral swirlaway. However, therefore, nonetheless. Otherwise, finally, because. Consequently, on the other hand, thus. Despite everything going on right now, in the interstellar hush.
