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Journey’s End
To Adventuresome Children at Bedtime
Mountain, forest, stone, and stream all glisten under sun,
While golden morn and midnoon beam call children out to run.
But after day has had his say, see night ascend her throne;
Home to bed and hearth and song, we shut out the unknown.
With mist upon the window pane, set warmth and light inside;
Myth and monster cast their nets, yet stay a while and bide.
Those tucked tight in bed tonight all share a happy fate:
We’ll tend the fire and shed our cares to pass the evening late.
Beyond the door are wind and fog, but here are kith and kin;
Turn your backs upon the world! What’s better out than in?
Gathered now in amber glow, our feet warmed by the fire,
Voices sing of legends past — hours thrown onto the pyre.
Little hearts grow calm again, and minds are freed by song;
Yawns strike out past shielding hands while secret dreams grow strong.
“Maybe, now, it’s time to sleep,” familiar whisper hints:
“The fire is burning low and dim from midnight’s fingerprints.”
So darkness grey and morning chill come creeping ‘cross the floor:
Dreamy yawns of kids grown still, and here and there a snore.
Dully now the embers glow, sweet morning waxes deep;
Stars yet tend their fires above, greet we below our sleep.
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Borne Away
A small boy is thinking thoughts sublime
(Visions tracing lines upon the air,
All borne away before their time).
On gnarled tree, begins to climb
(The trunk grows from a kitchen chair)
A small boy, dreaming dreams sublime.
And now he hears a silver chime
(From backyard elven kingdom fair),
That’s borne away before its time.
With honest hand and artless rhyme
(For mom some scribbled lines to share),
A small boy’s weaving words sublime.
From sudden storm in temperate clime
(And fall while sledding down the stair),
He’s borne away by suppertime.
With speech now gone, let pantomime
Speak silent words and whispered prayer:
A small boy, nearing night sublime,
Is borne away before his time.
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Talbot Hook is a PhD student and occasional writer currently living in Connecticut.
I found the first two lines of “Journey’s End” very melodic. They made me want to keep reading, and I did. Hopefully you’ll find the time to become more than an “occasional” writer!
Thanks so much, Cheryl! I appreciate the kind words. That’s the goal, eventually; time, as we know, is hard to come by!