The Good Dreams

I'm always searching for poems ... my own published poems ... that I can share with you.

My search this time led me to my little poem which celebrates a beginning, the arrival of a new member of the family.

I also see the arrival of new life in our midst ... this symbol of the continuation of life, this vision beyond the present day, beyond us ... as a symbol of hope.

The pairing with today's art naturally followed: the sunlit path that leads on, inviting us to see what lies beyond the next turn, and beyond that.

The poem:

THE GOOD DREAMS

Your grandparents treasure the joy
of having been there within hours
of your arrival, taking their turns
cradling your downy head in their
arms, marveling at perfect tiny
fingers and toes, your eyes fluttering
open and shut, brief lusty crying,
eager, hungry feeding, your
drifting off into well-earned sleep.

Some distant day you, too, may hold
your own grandchild and know such joy,
may sit wondering, arm growing numb,
what adventures lie still years ahead.

But for now it is sufficient
for you to sleep. So sleep, sleep,
sleep, Thomas, and in time
the good dreams will come to you.
© 1999
(originally published in Capper's)

Today's word: sleep

Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:

As I say, Helen, so much depends on what the reader brings to the poem ... and it's apparent that you bring compassion and understanding. I'm glad you liked the poem. As for snow, it can make a pretty picture ... sometimes. But generally I prefer the kind that's just passing through, looking for a place to land, and making it a brief visit, if it decides to land here.