We have all suffered from sleepless nights. Shakespeareβs Sonnet 27 puts it into timeless words. What a wonder that lines written back in 1609 can still resonate with us today.
Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
But then begins a journey in my head
To work my mind, when bodyβs workβs expired:
For then my thoughtsβfrom far where I abideβ
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see:
Save that my soulβs imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,
Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new.
Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,
For thee, and for myself, no quiet find.
PHOTO: Verronica in my California studio.
Instagram: @verronica_