Sleep

by Cliff Lake

Being too aware of the tramplings of Man,
Where do I take my comfort now?
From the plastics in the water?
In the food?
Will that render me indestructible?
Or just a replication of who I once was?

What quietude am I to find
In the caging of other beings
No less deserving of their place,
No less deserving of their freedom
But now contained
In order to save them from us?

Where do I take my rest
From the pursuit of violence
Excused through split tongues
Reading what they desire
From warnings against
What they would rather choose?

How can I in faith blind myself
To the suffering I cannot mend,
But can speak against
To those that do not hear?
If ignorance is bliss,
Is stupidity the heaven craved?

Would that I could sleep
Through these tribulations,
And through inactivity
And guilted silences
Absolve myself of things I have not done,
But could have affected.

How do I find repose
Knowing the self-destruction of Man
Continues apace,
In the pursuit of pleasures transient,
With no thought of tomorrows
Or those that will die of today’s poisons.

Thus, the nights ring with sorrow
Of mistakes made in full knowledge
Of the consequences ignored
And assuaged with cheap entertainments.
And so, I write.
And so I write:
Would that it is enough…

Cliff Lake 12/5/2023
Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023