Moment

by Cliff Lake

Doubt blankets:
The cocoon of disbelief
Does not comfort,
But it numbs…
Yes, it numbs.

Pockets of the yet determined band,
Hollow-eyed,
But resolute,
What burns within these stalwart?
Betrayal.
Yes, betrayal.

Betrayed by neighbors,
By co-workers,
By friends,
By relations.
Betrayed by their stubbornness,
By their cling to old habit,
To worn ideal,
Too stubborn to grow beyond routine,
Beyond decrepit bias.

See the hopping oligarch!
He has played an ancient fiddle,
The masses danced to that hoary tune,
And the Republic burns.
See the far puppet master!
His strings pervade the woven web and
Electronic engagements
Allow orgiastic entropy entry.

See the bombastic blowhard! 
See the buffoon bow to every master’s behest.
No corporate captain,
But captive, he.
A sodden sponge attempting to remain afloat,
Riddled with soils collected,
And always unwashed,
Always unwashed.

See the befuddled masses not reveling,
But wandering in the seeping realization
That a new slavery has begun
And that they donned and
Locked their chain
Too willing.

What to do with wandering sheep?
Leave them to wolves casting off disguise?
We must be as rams among them! 
Charging the raveners, defending the flock!
We must be as shepherds guiding.

Do not say the moment has passed!
Every moment is yours
If you but claim it.
Let us seize our moment,
Let us rise above,
Let us be the change we desire.
Every moment is ours,
Let us claim them for everyone.

Cliff Lake 11/18/2024
Copyright © Clifford Lake 2024