Smoke

Red sun peers through murky skies. 
We glimpse future through clouded eyes.
What awaits us is in doubt; 
Will we see the next seed sprout

And grow into a tree that protects the weak
Who flourish at its root?
What more will be left for those who seek
To be nourished by its fruit? 

They ask us, Tarry here – watch with me.
Then find us, each time we are asleep, 
Having gorged ourselves we creep 
Away no time to sow but always reap. 

Father, let this cup pass from us 
Only after we have drunk our fill 
And there is nothing more to spill
Upon the thirsty soil,

As it all spoils under sun's red eye: 
The only one who keeps their watch
But will not blink or feel or cry.