How Can We Get To Sleep Each Roaring Night?

by Renwick Berchild

What is the What?
Who is the Who?
When is the When?
Where will I lay my head and rest?

How is a misnomer
Each time I crack an egg,
Each time I fry its yoke,
Its slither down my throat,
My turn in the game of consumption
And conquest.

My neighbor wants us to return to nature,
A nature without violence,
Without death,
Without danger,
Without poison cramped within the earth,
Darkness closing its fist around the future.

I’ve never known a nature that was not of self-interest,
Not of some greedy bent;
The tree does not practice sacrifice,
The tiger is no martyr.

Why do I lay my head
To dream of persons kissing?
To dream of fathers carrying their sons,
Brothers that toss their guns down,
Mothers that cradle their daughters
And dream of mountains.

It is lonely at the beginning, and it is lonely at the end.
What first I held is long gone,
What first I thought I might achieve
Long changed.

I lay my head
And still I dream,
Wonder at the night sky,

We do not rest until it is finished.

And it is never finished.


6 Comments to “How Can We Get To Sleep Each Roaring Night?”

  1. Wow! This is brilliant! So true about most of. I, however, have to share with you of an experience I have about myself (and now I keep experiencing it over and over again) which tells me that there is more to us than we know about ourselves. There is something that is free of self-interest. I can’t tell you exactly what that is, for I will fail, but, trust me, that is a place to rest your head upon! Cheers!

If you enjoyed the poem. please leave a comment.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: