I’ve built this engine, said the inventor,
every inch of it useful and roomy, each fiber
full of meaning and memory. The one caveat
is efficiency. Sure, it can run constantly,
but an optimal strategy is a third
of the day asleep.
Doing what?
Dreaming. Imagining. Creating. Brain
working without sense or senses
envisioning something impractical,
without reason, proofless, pointless.
Call them symbols or symbiosis,
these gifts of sleep.
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