Why Won't You Nap: A Poem About Daily Disturbances

Lean into pain;

‘Tis muscle ripping,

Allowing for more,

Through recurring strain.

’Tis no injury,

Warning or punishment,

But refashioned inclinations

Of disordered hearts:

Born wanting instantaneously,

Bred demanding sacrosanct rights.

Deceived diva

Dissonant from holy choirs.

Unbalanced cog

Obstructing the machinery.

Skiff colliding

With the King’s navy

War-bound to feed the hungry.

Nothing is wasted or lost.

No yearning unrequited,

But transfigured and diffused

Unto the way eternal

Through today’s wants frustrated,

And tomorrow’s hopes replaced,

And yesterday’s offenses burned

Like incense’s sweet fragrance.

There on the altar,

I scatter the wood shavings

Chiseled clean-off my own form.

There they ignite

With the lamb’s immolation,

He gave to set hearts aright:

To lift the banishment,

And encompass all natures,

All voices at rehearsal,

All gears grinding down,

All ships learning to helm,

War-bound to feed more hungry.

Comments

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