Seductive valerian and maidenly chamomile,
same herbs my great
great grandmother snipped and brewed,
summer garden wrapped in tissue,
insomniac’s aphrodisiac,
you promise I’ll wake in the morning
like wood sorrel opening
its neon yellow flowers
to the first
touch of the sun.
Come, blessed leaves,
soak in this boiling bath;
release slithers of scent
into steam if you must,
but save every single soporific cell
of sleep-inducing power
for me.
O liquid lullaby,
soother of worry
and dream enticer,
drift away with me
into a nightlong
river of rest.
The Kingdom of Enough 