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  • Writer's picturePaul D. Wilke

Sleepwalker's Lullaby

Every now and then,

we wake up,

rub our eyes,

look around,

and panic a bit.

"Wait...where am I?"

"Where did all the time go?"

Maybe the death of a loved one does it.

Maybe the kids growing up and leaving home breaks the spell.

Maybe falling in love after decades of dormant deadness

jolts us from our slumber.

Who knows?

Anything can wake us up

from the zombie trance,

from the sleeper's dance,

if only for a brief moment.

But then

back to sleep,

to routine,

to settling,

to numbness,

to feeding our fat faces,

to the white noise of the everyday,

back to the catatonic in-between.

Yet the in-between is

where life happens,

where time flies,

where sleepwalkers hold sway,

each and every day,

an empire of dreamers,

ignoring with a shrug

the Gift



But how can this be?

Do you not see?

Can you not BE?

Wake up!

WAKE UP, I say!

Reject the sleepwalker haze,

stumbling through the days

doing whatever pays,

killing time that's

killing you

one itty-bitty heartbeat

at a time.

Again and again and again

and again



I beg you!

Wake up!

Are you listening?

Live awake!

Are you listening?

Feel awake!

Are you listening?

I said wake up!

Get out and wander,

you luminous spirits,

as the rest of the world


All is not lost!

Look around!

Live aware

if you dare.

Here is life all around!

Here is everything!



Now is all you get!

But you get it all

for a little while.

Before this was

nothing more

and after this will be

nothing else!

So wake up!

"What is this you say?"

"Tell me more!"

Choose again.

"But what are the answers?"

Choose again.

"I want to know."

You already know.

You have always known.

Shhh...quiet now, go back to sleep.

You're having a bad dream, that's all.








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