Insomniac party with Christian Wiman

I have been reading and enjoying Christian Wiman's Ambition and Survival, picked up at the West Chester Poetry Conference in June and signed by himself . . . What did I say to him? Nothing much. What was I to him but another blurred face passing?

But when I woke at 4:00 a.m., I wandered here and there and settled on this Wiman essay. It has many figures and moments I recognize and respond to; it captures something of Traherne's visionary infant sight; it has facets, worth lifting into lamplight, here in the hours of dark. And so in the end, I commune with him, and though insomniac and weary, I am tossed by his joyful, painful instants of life.