quiet hours

Two in the morning has again become my best friend
Well I say this in that perky tone but the reality is
We are old aquaintances of many years standing
And the only difference is that there are now church bells
Which in years gone by I might have enjoyed
But now only serve to mark the hours of wakefulness.

I could get up and wander about, make myself useful
Or even just sit and read a book, but no I do neither
I lie in the dark and look at the bright moon shining
I draw the curtains back to enjoy the magical quality
Of a light that in ages past was the object of worship
And you can see why as clouds race across the silvery face.

It’s a quiet time, perfect for reflection and for introspection
But what I’d like to do is to find a way to stop the tumult
I would like to slip into the sea of tranquillity and dive
Searching for a deeper peace that doesn’t just dissipate
In the harsh light of reality, or in the noise and bustle of the day
I’d like to find a way to be here and there at the same time.

As the church bells chime four I am still looking, still awake
And I wonder at how the time passes in such contemplation
It’s the lack of rush, the acceptance that thoughts will drift
That there is no need to constantly be of a practical mind
I would like to know how to switch this all off though
I’d like to find some peace in the quiet hours of the morning.