Poetry Collection.

"A Wakeless Slumber."

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Sleep, sleep, little child of the snow,
my dearest dappled friend.

Heed not the calls of mists afar
and darkened shadows near.

The flying raven shall seek your mind
and steal it off into the night.

Fear not his feathered wings of death,
for he is neither foe nor threat.

Sleep, sleep, little child of the snow,
eyes of ice so pure.

The riverbanks grow steep tonight
as the moon unfurls.

You shall wade to water, my child,
and it shall take your soul,

but let the ice break in, my love,
and drown your bones in song.

Sleep, sleep, little child of the snow,
the daughter of cold and wind.

Close your eyes as your heart dawns frost
and allow the night to blanket you.

You shiver, my dear, and beg for the light,
though I see not one near you,

except for that of the moon and the stars,
their milk-light tendrils painting your blood blue.

I wish that I could save you, child,
though I fear I have no choice,

for if I carried you, my love,
a sibling shall take your place.

And though I feel as if destiny is calling upon you now,
as your mother I can see that I shan't not break the boughs.

But as you go,
go gently,
my dear child of the snow,

and where the deep greens of the towering treetops
kiss the glittering stars above,
someday I shall meet you there with the skin of a thousand suns.

But until then,
sleep,
sleep,
little child of the snow,
and climb the snowflakes up to the heavens,
their fires bright and true.

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(November 12, 2020.)

Bluestar's lullaby to a dying Mosskit. :(