Lemmings’ Cliff Run
by Odin Roark

Might it be

We are naively gullible
Believing like the Lemmings
From the ocean-cliff’s edge
Down below looks like a lake
So it must be a lake
Even though our species
Should know better

Could it be

We abandon
Those extra synaptic gifts
Deceive ourselves
Take the leap
Find we can survive the jump
But the endless “lake”
Like to the lemmings
Has no opposite shoreline
Within eyesight

And like the lemmings
Struggle concedes to
Physical and mental fatigue
Delivers exhausted neurons
Into blissful compliance

Such might be

The place where
Credit card inebriation
Staggers us into the “lake”
Only to find we’ve extended
Beyond our means
No shoreline in view

Sadly

Many might survive their “ocean”
Until they are but floating bodies
Bobbing with the waves of commerce know-how
As it pushes the tide
Back to the shore
Ready to lure
Fresh
Delusional
Lemming-headed targets
Awaiting atop cliff’s edge
Staring into that intoxicating money-colored
Blue/green color we’ve grown to glamorize
Fantasize
And worship
Thinking it will always be there
Until it's not

Nature’s perfection
Transparency’s metaphor
Seldom perceived
Often ignored