Sleep soft and warm in my arms, little one, as we sit together on the swing, and I tell you about all the cars that pass by. The birds sing, the windchime rings, and we listen to maple seeds rattling across the road. The world is big and beautiful but it will still be here when you wake up. The world will wait for you with all its wonders, the purple flowers and the crawling ants, the robins that hop and tilt their heads. You have time, little one, to grow and discover. The world never runs out of wonders.
Sleep seems to close the chapter of one day, purge the bad things that might have happened, blunt the pain of missteps during the day, so that we wake up feeling refreshed and restored to confront the same problems we had on the previous days.
Chanpheng
when the end comes, a
peaceful light at the end
of the tunnel, will it be
time to rest, then?
My tired eyes protest,
when I’m dead and
gone, will I finally be
allowed to just sleep?
Sleep soft and warm in my arms, little one, as we sit together on the swing, and I tell you about all the cars that pass by. The birds sing, the windchime rings, and we listen to maple seeds rattling across the road. The world is big and beautiful but it will still be here when you wake up. The world will wait for you with all its wonders, the purple flowers and the crawling ants, the robins that hop and tilt their heads. You have time, little one, to grow and discover. The world never runs out of wonders.
Sleep seems to close the chapter of one day, purge the bad things that might have happened, blunt the pain of missteps during the day, so that we wake up feeling refreshed and restored to confront the same problems we had on the previous days.
when the end comes, a
peaceful light at the end
of the tunnel, will it be
time to rest, then?
My tired eyes protest,
when I’m dead and
gone, will I finally be
allowed to just sleep?