For the Sleepwalkers by Edward Hirsch

<p>Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman</p><p> </p><p>For the Sleepwalkers</p><p>by Edward Hirsch</p><p> </p><p>Tonight I want to say something wonderful</p><p>for the sleepwalkers who have so much faith</p><p>in their legs, so much faith in the invisible</p><p> </p><p>arrow carved into the carpet, the worn path</p><p>that leads to the stairs instead of the window,</p><p>the gaping doorway instead of the seamless mirror.</p><p> </p><p>I love the way that sleepwalkers are willing</p><p>to step out of their bodies into the night,</p><p>to raise their arms and welcome the darkness,</p><p> </p><p>palming the blank spaces, touching everything.</p><p>Always they return home safely, like blind men</p><p>who know it is morning by feeling shadows.</p><p> </p><p>And always they wake up as themselves again.</p><p>That’s why I want to say something astonishing</p><p>like: Our hearts are leaving our bodies.</p><p> </p><p>Our hearts are thirsty black handkerchiefs</p><p>flying through the trees at night, soaking up</p><p>the darkest beams of moonlight, the music</p><p> </p><p>of owls, the motion of wind-torn branches.</p><p>And now our hearts are thick black fists</p><p>flying back to the glove of our chests.</p><p> </p><p>We have to learn to trust our hearts like that.</p><p>We have to learn the desperate faith of sleep-</p><p>walkers who rise out of their calm beds</p><p> </p><p>and walk through the skin of another life.</p><p>We have to drink the stupefying cup of darkness</p><p>and wake up to ourselves, nourished and surprised.</p><p> </p>