When your day begins in the pouring rain and the driver of the cab you damply hailed is chugging Red Bull… when a class of your students yesterday spent their time writing poems about decorum in the library (I figured, why not combine? It’s national poetry month and their behavior was markedly lacking in that certain something that makes education possible)…when your meetings and conversation outlast your capacity to comprehend another word, let alone a whole idea…

How wonderful to encounter a gentle reminder, from yourself, no less, that there are spaces and times and words that bring calm. That there is that mystical, liminal space, where you can let go and find around you that hammock, or rocking chair, or cradle, or arms, where there is peace. I wrote this several years ago and found it among files.

Quiet Words

Hush love,
rock rockabye,
let the night come;
Stars need the darkness
to kiss the moon;
Moon needs midnight
to spin its shine;
Shine needs hearts
to carry it on,
carry it out
into a world afraid
of shadows.

Rockabye rock,
Hush love, hush,
feel the dreams
come in a rush
of silken colors
oceans deep;
go on, little one,
into the arms of sleep.

Lullaby honey,
nestle down
in the sweet soft arms-
sweet in the stillness,
soft in the dark;
breathe in the shine
of the moon and
the Maker
swinging you
swinging you
rocking you, rock.
loving you, hush,
into quiet word
sleep.

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