Lullaby

For Kyle
May nothing and no one be a cage to you
while you sleep or when you wake —
not sleep itself, not dark, not light, not fear,
not any of us sitting out here hoping
you will fall and settle like a feather
into sleep, not needing our eloquence
to convince, our cunning to outwit you.
May your journey through dreams be that
of a young hero, uprighting himself after
each fall, not suspecting yet the dragons
behind rocks, nor the power he carries
in that small casket slung across his breast —
containing sorrow, love and hope,
magically concentrated.
May you hear through your sleep the birds
at dawn, but not be woken by them. Their songs,
like their flight, connect earth with air,
air with water, but cannot express
the fourth quadrant, fire.
The rising sun lighting their wings is fire,
which brings warmth, and the beginning of shadow.
From shaken wings, a bright dew falls.