When the World is Fast Asleep By Meriah Murphy

Don’t speak
For the world is fast asleep

A slumber so thick
So smooth
It drips like honey
Over every rooftop
Until each city contributes
To the same golden masterpiece
Colored with beautiful, long-awaited serenity

What speaks but the steady tick, tick
Of a clock that works overtime
Waiting for someone to acknowledge it?

Fallen leaves do not waltz
To the sound of crushed cans scraping the pavement
Or the tickle of debris earlier scuffed up
By mechanical feet
The wind needs a little rest too

The sky is an ink-saturated page
One that’s been soaking in indigo liquid
Since the writer’s tired hand knocked over the well
Just after the rest of his body fell asleep

The stars have checked out now
Gone back behind clouds
To let their tiny bodies sleep for just a night

The world has swallowed itself whole
Not rushing, but floating
Floating through its lazy esophagus
Lit by the moon and wonderfully nonsensical dreams

The earth lands in its belly
Here it will stay the night
Surrounded by the sound of all tired things
The calming hum of souls
Who have nothing to worry them
A sleepy symphony of nostrils
And gaping mouths

Whispering the melody
Of fourteen billion lethargic lungs

The drone will continue until morning
When the earth bursts from within itself
And with it are released sounds and colors
Of consciousness
It is a circus of lively existence
And the sun is the ringmaster
Spewing its light as far as it will go
Not afraid of being upstaged
By the beauty of a well-rested universe

Responsibility will dance atop every eyelid
Gently forcing every body to begin its daily feat
Never stopping until
The moon checks in for the night shift
And all sounds reunite
To become the harmonious lull they were
Just twenty-four hours before

Overworked creatures will simmer down
Tuck themselves in for a well-deserved nap
Animals will return home
And trees will nestle with moss blankets
Nature will return to its peaceful coma
And, like clockwork, everything will be fast asleep
tick, tick

The slumber will be heavy as it always is
Heavy on weary minds
Replacing hyperactive thoughts with relief

Something so perfect should never be disturbed

So not another word
For a sound out of place
Could wake the entire world