Multiple Choice In The Cheery Dew Of Dawn Poem by Gary Witt

This morning enfolds unfunded hope,
Promiscuous promise, and delirious doubt;
A glassy-eyed morning whose atmosphere
Is saturated with aspirin and ephedrine;
A morning staggering to meet its train,
Glasses left behind in another suit;
A morning that will be late for lunch.
What will, what can, a morning such as this disclose?
What shall it reveal to us and its progeny?
What lessons learned and at what cost?
The human spirit elsewhere thirsts for knowledge,
Settling for reassurance its myths remain intact.
But here and now will the lesson come
From next door pushing a borrowed lawn mower,
By bus wearing a neighboring city's league colors,
Or swiftly from afar, in silence, severing a limb?
Will it trudge in, shivering, muttering under its breath,
Arriving with a slap in the face, a whispering nudge,
Or the gentle, startling chime of an elevator bell?
Will knowledge condense to an aphorism,
Or lounge within dissertation pages waiting to be typed?
Accosted, absorbed, or stepped over deftly?
Shall eyesight fade, straining to see,
Or capable but careless, stare straight through,
Failing to recognize the kernel
Among seeds genetically altered
And strewn upon the ground? If found,
Will knowledge be nurtured by generations to come?
Student loans repaid, frat stunts repented?
Will there ever be a human pyramid that does not collapse
In chaos, rude jokes, and an inept tangle
Of megaphones, pleated skirts, and letter sweaters
As we fall from the shoulders of giants?