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Night girl,
your book is full.
You have drawn
all the pictures.
You have seen
many weepers.
Rainbows held
your sky in place,
and sorrows bloomed
about you like flowers.
Moons floated
on your lakes
and washed them.
Stars lit your river beds,
and songs adorned
your chest with garlands.
When a bird sings
when dewed branches
tilt sunlight into eyes
when curtains are soaked
with light,
transparent as air,
when mirrors are
heavy with emptiness,
drift away with dreams
like a kite.
Let words and sounds
replace your endless waking.
Let the sun
break out of her shell.
Let go of us,
dear child,
and let the day
give us meaning.

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