The dream state of the world
convulses, rolls in chains,
roars in pain at their constraining,
rumbles and crashes, trying to rise

Its ripples murmur
through every earthbound life,
and each one feels it –
a nagging from afar,
a rage within

The beast in each
has been, thus far, contained
by shunting off to frame another’s blame,
where, in our ignorance,
or by some monstrous plan,
it will explode to burn
in someone else’s land

So it will be, until we learn the name
of that which sparks us all, so we can claim
the gentle power
that gives us each release,
resets the primal hour
and soothes the beast.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 8,  2021