Sandals at the Gate

II. River dream

Lay down sweet child
To rest.
Tomorrow you shall, yet,
Another picture paint
In golds and reds
And
Hints of sand and shell
And stone and bone.

Tomorrow you shall paint,
(In vibrant tones)
Like words that hurt,

A picture of the idol
That your parents wrought for you.

Fear not sweet child
But rest.

Though yesterday is but
A moment from your slumber.
Yet shall you rest in
That sweet,
Quiet place.

Between yesterday and tomorrow
There are sleep and dreams
And colors and whispers.
Then shall you sing
So delicately,
Serenely,
Sweetly
Across the stillness of the water.

Perhaps in sleep
You shall remember,

Perhaps awake tomorrow
With the word at your
Tongue's edge, daring
To be remembered,
Daring to be spoken,

Daring to bring fire to the world.

And you, my child, inspired
By the danger,
Shall set your canvas
As a raft upon the waters;
Unpainted and unsoiled.

Still whispering
Of moments unredeemed,
You will sail beneath the
Stillness to the raging of the sea,
and with your still small voice
Bring peace to yesterdays,
And tomorrows,
And tomorrows
In that moment when
The world awaits, and
The pond, (so still and quiet,)

Ripples.


"And the Spirit of the Lord moved across the face of the deep."

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