Sleepwalk
We drift
across Time’s plane –
finite and etched in space;
a rift,
coordinate
to map the breadth of days
of life mundane.
Absorbed
in paltry noise,
enmeshed within a web –
enthralled
with trinkets small;
a silent empty ebb
of jeweled ploys
We seek
yet find
the soul decayed;
too bleak
and blind
while spirit wanes away;
at surface bask
in glory, pleasure, gain –
a burnished mask,
yet vain.
We coast
while seconds flee
amidst the din and strife;
and bow
to mores, theories, faiths,
delusive hopes,
inertia of days;
to think
that we should grasp
each precious shard that crafts
this whole of Life.