Moonlit Goodnight

VSCO Cam-1.jpg

Sleep, my son,

when all the world keeps turning,

leave the 

wake, my son,

how low the candle’s burning,

please don’t

wait, my son,

for anyone’s returning:

there is time left

to rest.

Keep, my son,

your own word and its wording,

let it

steep, my son,

that thought you have been herding,

as if

sheep, my son,

are counted when converting

open eyes in-

to closed.

Stay, my son,

in peaceful states of minding,

watch and 

pray, my son,

for hours of unwinding,

feel it

lay, my son,

your own head down from finding

things for your gaze

to fix.

Gray, my son,

is the evening you’re behind-ing,

hold at

bay, my son

the fussing and the whining,

you’re o-

kay, my son,

the clouds have silver lining

long before first light

under Moonlit Goodnight.