The Unacknowledged Alarms of the World

If a poem could lie in wait
Instead of only lying,
If a poem could rise at night
And wake you from your dream sleep
With accurate predictions
And not mere prophesying,
We could speak with conviction,

We could forecast for ourselves,
And plan our own behaviors,
And feel that we were worthwhile,
And feel ourselves grow braver.
But we lie as you left us,
Waiting, not in wait. We try
Hard to wake you. But you sleep.