Sleepwalking

Who can rescue from the doldrums of dreary repetition?
And what defender of ravenous life delineates a requiem
Of lifeless life relived?

The call of the wild
Pales to the call of the mild,
When vision is slighted
And lifeblood runs thin.

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The wild child looked at me and smiled.
He said, “Sleep so deep and count the sheep,
But wasting life will make you weep.
A yawn of weight may feel quite great
But an active heart prolongs one’s fate.”

So sleep when you must, but hardly the more.
If life gives you time, make haste towards the door!
“Carpe diem!” Clichéd, yet so true.
Grab hold of this day, it won’t wait for you.

Michael P. Van Gilst