Rest

by Chris Ernest Nelson

I have received so many invitations
to dance with sensuous death,
all of which I have refused.
Again today, I rebuffed her call
and she withdrew a while,
only to return with a new and
more appealing invitation as night fell,
this time much harder to resist.

Still, I bravely sent her away,
her displeasure followed by the dark.
She looked back from her retreat,
her head bent in longing as she
lifted her eyes to behold the answer
of my goodbye. Alas, I know she
will return– as she has time
and time before.

In the morning,
after a long and sleepless night,
when I am weary of the game,
I will greet her with a smile,
I will ask her in,
I will take her hand,
but not to dance–
no.
only to find rest.

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