His heart cries out in bed, his hands seeking his father like an unweaned child. His spirit may be weary, but it becomes fuel for his arms, so he holds them up and refuses to be comforted until he is heard.
The sleeplessness he experiences in bed becomes his form of meditation, with eyes wide open and seeing nothing but a canvas of past memories. And even though he remains silent with the rest of the world, he hears a scroll of self-composed songs filter through the night, and remembers a time when he could see the manifestations of love galvanising the forces of nature.
He moves over in his bed, and pretends that his body is a wave in the ocean, waiting to be given a breath of life.